Surfaces May be Hot to Handle
by GoddamnWrite
Summary: After a freak storm Kurt is left with a strange new power. Absolutely anyone who touches him must have him. Regardless of sexuality, gender or previous reservations. And he's not the only one with powers. Based on the TV show The Misfits.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating and Warning**: NC-17. Non-con elements but not dark!fic or PWP.  
**Characters:** Kurt/Everyone  
**Summary:** Written for this prompt. After a freak storm Kurt is left with a strange new power. Absolutely anyone who touches him must have him. Regardless of sexuality, gender or previous reservations. And he's not the only one with powers. Based on the TV show The Misfits. AU after 02.05.

**Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.**  
**Chapter 1**

There was no God. And if Kurt Hummel had ever needed evidence- this was it.

A storm.

A storm on the day he was wearing his brand new Christian T'one blazer.

A storm when he was, much to his discomfort, going straight from school to a date with Blaine. Well, maybe not a _date_date. Just a friendly meal at Breadstix, but it certainly wasn't going to end up a _date_ date if he turned up looking like he had _swam_there.

Kurt leaned against the wall, tapping at his thigh absently and sighing as he looked through the door's window. He'd give it about ten more minutes to lighten up and then just resign himself to his fate. _Floppy bangs. _It wasn't the end of the world after all. It could be worse.

"What's up, Lady Face?"

There wasn't a God but there was most _definitely _a hell.

"Just leave me alone, Karofsky," Kurt sighed, not bothering to turn to face his tormentor.

"Scared about getting your hair wet, Sweetie?" Well, yes, actually but _he_didn't need to know that. "Forget your matching pink umbrella?" Also true. But whatever.

"Don't you have better things to do with your evening? Like, I don't know, spending some quality time with The Fury or something." Kurt pushed himself closer to the exit, trying to make himself smaller and watching Karofsky from the corner of his eye. Dimly he was aware that the school was pretty much empty. And what had happened last time they were alone. His mouth was suddenly very, very dry.

"You smarting off to me, Hummel?" Karofsky took a step closer. "You think you're so damn special, don't you? Looking down your nose at the rest of us like you're Queen Bee or something..."

_Blaine. Blaine. Blaine_, Kurt chanted in his head. _Just ignore this loser and think about perfect, sweet, handsome Blaine. _A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and his eyes drifted shut, the ranting boy at his side almost forgotten.

"Damnit!" A meaty hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Don't you _dare _laugh at me, homo!" Another hand came between his shoulder blades and Karofsky shoved. Shoved hard.

Kurt flew through the doors, tripping over his own feet in the process, and hitting the top of the wet step with a clatter. Pain screamed across his palms but he barely registered it in his shock. _My blazer!_

Pushing himself up with his elbows, he spun on the ground and faced his attacker who stood over him, looking more confused than triumphant. "Are you mentally deficient?" he demanded. "What is the _matter _with you?"

"I uh..." Karofsky began, a look on his face that Kurt couldn't read. Didn't care to read. "Uh..."

"Succinct as ever, Foot Locker!" He felt like crying but he'd be damned if he would let this puck head see how humiliated he was. Groaning he inspected his jacket and the nice big tear that now wound round the elbow. Great. Fantastic! It had only cost, like, seven million months of his allowance. Plus he now looked like a drowned rat for his dinner with Blaine. Perfect.

An earth shattering crash from behind him broke his thoughts and he snapped his head round to see. "Oh, my God!"

"What the fu..." Karofsky said, his voice awed. "Look at the size of those hailstones!"

Kurt didn't answer, just stared in wonder, his current grievances forgotten. This was Science Fiction! This was _Ripley's Believe it or Not_. Never before had he seen hail as large or as devastating. They bounced off cars leaving write offs in their wake. Huge craters were forming as each stone hit the ground. He was transfixed.

"Hummel!" He felt a hand tugging at his collar and pulling him to his feet, faintly he heard another rip but he still couldn't look away from the scene before him. And it was getting heavier.

"Damnit! Run, Kurt! Come on!" Karofsky grabbed at his arm, dragging him back towards the doors he'd pushed him through only minutes earlier. "We have to..."

Everything went white.

* * *

Kurt's eyes flickered open and he found himself staring up at a blue sky. The storm had passed.

"Hummel?" Karofsky's face moved into view above him, almost unrecognizable in an emotion Kurt couldn't decipher. "You okay, man?"

He must be bad if Karofsky had actually just referred to him as a "man" of all things. "What happened?" He groaned, sitting up and wincing at a pain in the back of his head. It must have hit the ground when...when _what_exactly?

"I uh...I think...I think we got hit by lightning."

"What? Are you _insane?_"

"No, we were running towards the door and then there was, like, huge light and we were flying through the..."

"People _do_ not get hit by lightning, idiot. Cows get hit by lightning. Weather vanes get hit by lightning. _I _do not get hit by lightning!" Kurt ignored Karofsky's outstretched hand and rose shakily. "Don't even think about it!"

"I...Look, we should probably go to the hospital. I could take us in my truck. If it didn't get hit that is."

"I'm not getting in a truck with _you!_" Kurt screeched. "You'll probably tie me to the front!"

"Hey! I'm just trying to make sure you are alright, that's all."

"I'm still not going with you. You'll only drive us into a hurricane or something. I'm fine!" He dusted himself down, cringing at the state of his boots. Scuffed was not the word. "And stop hovering, will you! I wouldn't even be...You shoved me through the damn door. Look at this!" Kurt held out his ruined sleeve. "Beyond repair! I don't even want to see my hair."

"Will you stop being a pissy little bitch? We got hit by lightning, Precious! Your, like, liver could be all fried or something. Don't you get that?"

"We _did not _get hit by lightning! I told you! People..."

"Don't get by lightning. Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time." Karofsky shook his head angrily. "And it made as much sense then." He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck looking away. "Christ, those things sure did some damage."

Following his gaze Kurt turned, gaping at the ruined parking lot. "What _was_that?" Kurt said. "I've never seen weather like it." He touched at his crown on his head, grimacing as he touched on an open wound. He drew his fingers to the front of his face, giving a little gasp at the red staining them.

"Shit! You _are _hurt! Come on. We need to get you seen to." Karofsky looked as if he was going to reach for him again and Kurt darted back.

"Just leave me alone, okay!" he snapped. "Haven't you done enough for one day?"

"You're blaming _me _for the weather?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," Kurt muttered, picking his bag up from the floor. No doubt soaked through to the books. Fabulous. _God, why the hell is this my life?_ Kurt thought looking down at his muddy trousers. Soaked to the bone, in tattered designer clothes, and talking to the school's mascot for ugly. How was he supposed to turn up for his date dressed like _this_?

"Fine, screw you! Bleed to death for all I care," Karofsky spat. Kurt looked up and raised his eyebrow in query. Karofsky's eyes were wide and an almost hurt expression was on his face. "Enjoy your date, Fancy!" He turned smartly on his heel and stalked off towards the ruined car park.

"What on earth...?" No, there was no point trying to dive into the mind of one Dave Karofsky. The dust from lack of use would probably choke him to death anyway.

He sighed and walked towards his car, hoping against hope that it had survived the icy massacre. Today had been too, too weird. And wet.

He needed to get into some dry clothes and into a booth opposite Blaine.

Stat.

* * *

"Mmm, as excuses go. That's quite a good one." Blaine smiled, taking a sip of his shake. "You okay, though?"

"Slight bump on my head but nothing terminal. My blazer, though...," he sighed. "It's too late for that."

"I got caught in it, too. That's why..." Blaine pointed at his hair, which was loose from the confines of gel for once. "I didn't have time to damage control."

Kurt felt a twinge of guilt at his own vanity. Blaine had come straight to the restaurant while Kurt had gone straight home to change. It was Blaine's fault, though. Kurt couldn't help that all he wanted to impress the boy on every meeting. "I'm sorry I was late. Really."

"Hey! Don't worry. I wasn't making a dig."

"And I like your hair like that! It really suits you! You look so cute!" Kurt blushed as he heard his words out loud. Damnit! He could feel his face on fire as Blaine shot him a wry, amused look. Why couldn't he be more like...like Puck or someone? Puck wouldn't go bright red every time he indicated an interest in someone else. Puck would probably have Blaine under the table by now. _Bad thought! Bad thought! _Kurt went even pinker and took a large drink of his shake.

"...I guess that's why I like Dalton." Oh, no. Had Blaine been talking? For how long? He nodded and tried to look deeply invested. "There's no pressure to stand out. To make a scene. We all have these uniforms and the same moral code, I guess you could say. It's like we are one big unit, you know. I wish other people could..." Blaine chewed at his lip, looking worried for a moment. "Sorry. Got up on my soapbox there." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, Kurt, there's something I wanted to say. I know I haven't known you long but from what I do know of you? I like. I like a lot."

Kurt's breath hitched and his hand tapped restlessly against the tablecloth. _Yes! Yes! Go on!_

"I guess I just want to say that I like you as a friend. But maybe..." Blaine gave a self deprecating laugh. "Boy, am I smooth or what?" He leaned across and grasped Kurt's twitching hand "I want...I want...CHRIST, I WANT TO FUCK YOU!"

"Er? Come again?"

"I WANT TO PUSH MY FAT, HARD COCK INTO YOUR HOT WET..."

Kurt pulled his hand back and pressed himself back against the booth. Not scared, too stunned to be scared. "Blaine!"

Blaine sat, mouth agape, staring down at his palm in confusion. "What? Kurt, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" Kurt hissed. He looked around grimacing at the shocked patron across from them, spoon frozen mid way to his mouth. "Er, double dog dare," he explained with a shrug.

"Double dog what? Have I said something to upset you? I...I can't remember what I _did_say actually." Blaine looked at the table, eyebrows knitted together.

"Is there a problem here?" The waitress appeared, her mouth in a downward turn. "That was some pretty course language, young man. There's _kids_here!"

"Language? We didn't say anything! Did we, Kurt?" Blaine's eyes narrowed at the woman and then flicked over to him. "Unless you have a problem with..." He made a vague hand gesture between him and Kurt, the implication clear.

She ignored him, looking at Kurt in concern. "You okay, hon? You look a bit peaky? Is this boy bothering you?"

"What? Seriously?" Blaine sighed in frustration and placed his hand over Kurt's at the same time the waitress put hers to Kurt's shoulder, her little finger nudging at his bare neck. "This happens to be my...OH MY GOD!"

"FUCK ME ON THE FLOOR! DOGGY STYLE!" The woman screamed, her nails digging through the shirt into Kurt's skin

"I WANT TO BEND YOU OVER THIS GODDAMN TABLE AND FUCK YOU THROUGH IT!"

"ME FIRST! I NEED YOUR TEENAGE COCK! NOW!"

"PISS IN MY HAIR! PISS IN MY HAIR!"

Kurt whimpered, grabbing back his hand, exiting the booth and shoving past the woman. Spinning on his heels, he backed away from them slowly as they stared back. Their expressions melting from lust into confusion.

"Kurt," Blaine asked. "Are you okay?"

"You want me to do _what _to your hair?" Kurt squeaked.

"My hair? What's going on here, Kurt?"

Kurt opened his mouth but closed it again with an audible snap, taking a shaky step backward.

Why were _they_ looking at him as if _he _was crazy?

"I have to go!" Kurt spat out. Then he turned and ran from the restaurant without a backward glance.

* * *

A joke? A prank that Blaine and the waitress had cooked up before hand? Possible but somehow Blaine didn't strike him as the crude pranking type. Which left concussion as the only option. He shifted on the bed and touched gingerly at the cut. Maybe he should have just let Karofsky take him to the damn hospital.

"Hey, dude!" Finn called out wandering into basement. "You want some of this hoagie?"

"Absolutely not," he muttered.

"Did you see that storm, man? It was awesome! Hailstones the size of, like, the moon." He sat down the end of Kurt's bed, not noticing the crumbs spraying onto the duvet. "You okay? You look a little green."

"Just...a weird day is all." Kurt sat up and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Could you watch where you're waving that thing?"

"Seriously, you look ill!" Finn shot out a hand and pressed a palm to Kurt"s forehead. "And you're a bit clammy. Hot, you know?" He sucked in a breath. "YOU'RE SO, SO HOT! GOT TO TASTE THAT DAMN TONGUE!" Pressing forward, he pushed Kurt down into the bed, mouth clamping down onto the smaller boy's.

"Finn!" Kurt shouted, the sound muffled by Finn's lips. He struggled against him as Finn ground his hips into him and gave out a long, drawn out groan of pleasure. In panic Kurt kicked out causing Finn to fly backward off the bed.

He sat up, blinked and tilted his head. "What the hell, Kurt? Did you just shove me off? My sandwich is on the floor! Look! It's all dirty." Finn grumbled as he picked it back up, shoving the escaped meat back into the bread and pushing it all into his mouth, swallowing in three gulps.

It was happening again! What was going on? Biting his lip he pushed out a hand experimentally. "I'm...sorry. Let me help you up."

Palm touched palm.

"I don't know why you've got to take...I NEED YOU TO SUCK ME NOW!"

Kurt dropped the hand.

"Did you say something, dude?"

Kurt grabbed the hand.

"DO ME! DO ME ON YOUR DAD'S BED!"

He let go.

"Man, my head feels fuzzy! I must be coming down with whatever you've got. You helping me up or not?"

Kurt was saved answering by his dad yelling down the stairs. "Kurt, phone! Someone from school."

Jumping up and being careful not to touch Finn in anyway, he ran up the steps two at a time. "Yes?" he gasped, grabbing the phone from his father. "Kurt speaking!"

"Hey...," A voice said.

"Er, hey? Who is this, please?"

"It"s Dave. Erm, Karofsky." Great, just what he needed. A mental breakdown and his school bully checking in by phone in the same hour. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong? I never said anything was wrong? You called _me_, remember?"

"Oh, right. Right." Kurt heard a deep breath being taken down the line and winced as Karofsky exhaled loudly in his ear. "I got your number from the book? Listen. Has anything, you know, weird happened since the storm?"

_The storm? Could that have caused it? What, no! This wasn't Marvel or whatever._

"Caused what?" Karofsky asked, his voice alert. "Hummel, has something happened?"

"Nothing's happened! Nothing's wrong except one ruined Christian T'one. Look my Dad's yelling for me. I have to go." He stopped before placing the phone back in the cradle. "Oh! And Karofsky? Lose this number."

He hung up quickly and leaned his head against the cool kitchen wall and tried to calm his thoughts.

_What the hell was going on?_

He jumped as the phone sprang into life and began to ring again. "Will you just go out and get a life?" he snapped as he answered.

"Whoa!" Blaine laughed. "Are you okay?"

"Oh! Blaine sorry. I thought you were someone else. Am I okay? Yes, no. No, I'm really not," Kurt sighed, shamed at the tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"You ran out so quickly, I would have followed but didn't want to risk making it worse." Blaine's voice softened. "Was it me? Was I moving too fast?"

"No! No! Not at all, Blaine! I'm just...I have no idea what's going on with me at all. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry! Look, why don't you come over. Help me study for the Industrial Revolution. We can talk about whatever is bothering you. I mean, if you want?"

"Er," Kurt faltered. Did he want to push Blaine even further away by saying no? Or push him completely away by acting like a crazy person? Maybe if he just stayed out of Blaine's way for the evening until this, whatever _this_ was, passed. "Sure! I'll be right over!"

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.  
Chapter 2

"Hey!" Blaine smiled on opening the door. "Come in, come in." He stood back, making room and Kurt was glad for it, easing past the smaller boy careful that they did not to touch in any way.

"Hey!" Kurt said, giving the room a quick once over and deciding on the chair furthest away from any other. He sat down and gave a wide grin, crossing his legs with a flourish.

Blaine gave him an odd look and sat down on the bed, rubbing his hands up and down on his thighs. "Why don't you sit over here?"

"I'm fine here, thanks. This is comfy!"

"It's a wooden stool."

"Oh, I know. I'm just crazy about wood." He blushed. "Furniture wise, I mean."

"Ahh." Blaine gave a nod and then fixed his eyes on Kurt, an expression of intent on his face. "Look, I know I've already asked, but is something going on with you? You seem jumpy."

"I'm fine! Fine!" Kurt heard the note of panic in his voice and swallowed hard. "Er, I think maybe I hurt my head worse than I thought in the storm. That's all."

"Oh? Let me see," Blaine said, rising and crossing the room towards him. Before he could reach, Kurt quickly darted out of the seat and across to the right.

"I _love _this wallpaper!" he explained lamely. "You have excellent taste."

"It's- pretty much the same over here?" Blaine raised an eyebrow and made as if to approach Kurt again. This time Kurt headed for the bed.

"These sheets are to die for," he cried shrilly. "I'm dead!"

"Kurt!" Blaine gave an exasperated laugh. "Stop being so nervous! I'm not going to jump you!"

This was a terrible idea. He was behaving like a complete mental person. Kurt sighed and dropped down onto the bed, staring down at his Vera Nave loafers. He wouldn't have to worry about Blaine touching him at this rate.

He started as he felt the mattress dip down next to him. "Look, I realize that this is all new to you, and I'm prepared to take it as slow as you want it." Blaine moved closer, sighing as Kurt edged away. "Or not at all if you prefer?"

"No! No, I do want to take things...er _somewhere! _I just...have a lot of stuff going on at the moment. Weird stuff."

"I know, Kurt. I know exactly what's going on." _Unlikely somehow._"It's Karofsky, isn't it? The kiss? You have to know I'm not like that, Kurt." Blaine reached out, his intention to be that his fingers gently graze against Kurt's cheekbone. Except Kurt dodged it.

And fell off the bed.

"Sorry!" He called, scrambling to his feet. "I'm sorry!" Blaine's look of disappointment was killing him. He _had_to tell him, he'd rather Blaine thought he was completely round the bend than that he didn't want him. "Look, I can explain..."

"I get it." Blaine held up a hand. "You're very young, Kurt. I guess I forgot that."

"What? I'm a year _older_ than you!" Kurt protested.

"I mean mentally. You're not ready yet. For a relationship I mean. I suspected but...I guess I hoped that wasn't the case." Blaine shrugged as Kurt dropped back down beside him in shock.

"You're breaking up with me?" He asked in a small voice.

"Technically we were never together, Kurt. But yes. I guess I am." Blaine shook his head. "You're a great guy. And you'll soon have your pick. I'm sure."

This couldn't be happening. Finally something was going right in his life and he had to go spoil it by becoming some sort of freak. He wanted to argue, beg, laugh and cry. He wanted to grab Blaine and hold on. But he couldn't touch Blaine could he?

_Could he?_

As Blaine talked about there being someone for everyone and Kurt's innocence, he slipped his bare foot out of a loafer. And moved it slowly to the other boy. Blaine's trousers had bunched up and a small square of flesh was poking out between sock and cuff. Kurt pressed his big toe on it.

"You'll see someday...GOING TO BITE YOUR COLLARBONE!" Kurt withdrew his foot. "...what? What was I saying again?"

"About me being an innocent?" Kurt said, his breath coming hard as his thoughts raced. Could he? No. Yes? Yes? No!

Kurt bit his lip. He was sick of always being the one lagging behind everybody else like a sexless mascot. Of having to wait in case he, God forbid, offended anyone in this ridiculous little town. Of losing out day after day.

Kurt was sick of being an innocent.

He smiled. Slow and measured.

"You okay, Kurt? I hope we can still be friends."

"The best," Kurt agreed, his hand curling around Blaine's wrist. "The very best."

* * *

Last night had been weird.

Good. Amazing. Wondrous. Acrobatic. There were not enough words in any dictionary but it has also been wrong. Very, very wrong. He had always imagined that losing his virginity would be slightly more magical. With fancy French wines, rose petals and a lute. Being asked to tug on someone's hair while slapping their ass hadn't even factored into his wildest fantasies. But he _had_lost it. And that's what mattered. Plus it had been with a hot guy he really, really liked.

Kurt felt a prickle of shame as he made his way down the school corridor. Remembering Blaine's shocked face as they had broke contact. His confusion at their joint nudity and the rather ruined state of his room.

_"What happened?," he gasped at the condom hanging from his cock. "Oh, my God. What did I do?"_

"Don't you remember?" Kurt had asked. "At all?"

"I was talking to you about us and the, oh, Kurt! Wait! Does that clock say ten? Where did four hours go?" He spun and faced Kurt with wild eyes. "I am so sorry! I just blacked out! I can't

believe _this!"_

After much talking and pacing Kurt had managed to calm Blaine down and explain that Kurt had not been some unwilling victim of the other boy's attack. Kurt wasn't sure what bothered Blaine more, that he had taken Kurt's virginity and couldn't remember it, or that he had lost his valued control.

He had left Blaine with his face in his hands, and a promise to give him a call the next day. The boy had barely raised his head, just muttered a goodbye under his breath. Kurt had let himself out quietly.

Not the most honourable thing he had ever done, no.

But it _had_been the most fun.

"What you smiling at?" Mercedes asked, falling into step beside him. "And why are you dressed like the The Unabomber? Gloves and a polo neck? It's summer!"

"Fashion doesn't bend to the will of seasons, Mercedes. That reminds me. Do you know where I can get a balaclava?"

"I'm not from the hood, Kurt." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, noticed anything?" She smiled prettily and stopped walking. Pouting and posing like a _Just Seventeen _model.

"New blouse?" Kurt guessed.

"You really can't tell?"

"Clearly not?" Kurt looked her over slowly. There _was _something different about her. "Hey! Did you lose weight?"

"I did!" She gave a twirl and laughed. "Quite a bit, actually."

"I didn't even know you were dieting. You look great! I mean not that you didn't before..."

"Get that foot out of your mouth before you get a tasting for it, Prawn." She ran her hands over her hips and gave a wink. "I'll meet you in the canteen. There's a rumour it's tot day and I want to get there first."

"Isn't that going to be counterproductive to the weight loss?" Kurt said with a raised brow.

"No." She gave a mysterious smile and set off at a faster pace. "It really isn't."

Kurt stared after her. How had he not noticed she had been slimming down? Maybe he'd been a _little _wrapped up in himself of late. He'd have to make it up to her. A movie night of her choice or something.

"Hummel!"

Kurt groaned as the voice interrupted his thoughts. "What do you want, Karofsky? I'm going to lunch."

"I need to talk to you. About last night." He grabbed Kurt and pulled him to a less crowded part of the corridor. "I need to know. Is anything _strange_happening to you?"

_Could it be happening to Karofsky, too? Oh, God. That was a horrible thought. Lunch didn't seem so urgent after all._

"What? It's happening to you, as well?"

"Is _what_happening to me? What are you...?" Kurt paused. Wait, why did it feel like Karofsky was answering something that Kurt had just asked. Had asked in his head.

_That's ridiculous! Karofsky can't read minds_

Karofsky stared down at him, eyes wide. And slowly nodded.

Okay. Okay. This warranted testing.

_Your hairline looks like it's fleeing your face in terror._

"Will you quit on my hair? How about if I told you that sometimes when you smile, you look like you have no teeth!"

"Oh, my God!"

"Not all the time," he muttered. "Just sometimes."

"You can read my mind!" Kurt exclaimed. "I can't _believe _this!"

"I'm not exactly on board either, Borrower, but yeah. Since last night. And not just yours. Everyone's." He gave a cursory glance around them. "It seems to be just surface thoughts. So your deep, hidden wet dreams about me are still a secret."

"This is all so unreal! It's amazing!"

"Are you _stupid? _It's awful! I went to see the nurse, that sweet old lady? She gave me a smile, a pat on the knee, and then called me a cunt in her head. It's not funny, Hummel!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Kurt said, flapping his hands. "Except it is."

"What about you?" Worry settled on his face. "Can you- Can you read mine?"

"No, my thing is. Erm. It's _different._" Kurt bit his lip, it would be a whole lot easier to show Karofsky, but there was no way he was touching him. Plus he wouldn't remember it anyway. It would have to be someone else. He looked past the boy and saw the perfect example. "Follow me."

He dived into the boy's bathroom with Karofsky close behind him. "Jacob! Wait a second!" He turned back to Karofsky. "Hold him for me?"

"Look, if this is about the blog, I said "alleged" sex change!" Jacob began to stutter. "Killing me will only confirm the rumours. And my source was...hey!"

"Okay," Kurt said, when Karofsky had the smaller boy restrained. Large hands clamped down tight on Jacob's shoulders, and holding him so that he was facing Kurt. "Don't freak out, alright?"

Karofsky gave him a quizzical look. "You're not going to set him on fire with your eyes are you? I'm not down with that."

"Set me on fire? Are you insane? Get off! Help! Help!" Kurt ignored him, removing a glove and shoving it into his pocket. "Get away from me, Hummel!" Kurt pressed a pinkie to Jacob's forehead. "Someone help...YOU SEXY BITCH! DROP THE SOAP! DROP THE SOAP!"

Karofsky nearly let go of the straining boy in his shock. "Jesus!"

Kurt dropped his hand down to his side with a sigh. "See?"

"What in the hell fuck was _that?_"

"I don't know! Anyone who touches me just freaks out and gets all sexual on me! And loud."

"What are two you talking about? Are you on meth?" Jacob demanded. "Let go of me! I have chess club."

"Do it again," Karofsky growled. "There's no way that's a real power."

Kurt sighed and pressed his pinkie back to the restrained boy.

"FUCK MY NECK!"

"Satisfied?" Kurt said, taking a step back and rubbing his fingers against his thigh.

Karofsky blinked and let go of Jacob almost absently. "Get out, Fro. Before you get a taste of The Fury!" He raised his fist and took a step towards him.

"But I haven't even used the facilities!"

"You pushing me, Israel?" Karofsky said in a threatening voice. "Hmm?"

"I'm going! I'm going!" He closed his hands into fists and glared at them. "This will be going on my website!"

The pair stood in silence until the bathroom door slammed shut.

"You know naming your appendages is completely lame, don't you?" Kurt offered weakly. Karofsky didn't respond, just stared him down. "It started yesterday. After the storm. I went to meet Blaine..."

"Your date?"

"Yes. I guess. And Blaine he...Well, he reacted like _that._"

"Blaine? The preppy kid that looks like he stepped out of a razor commercial?" Karofsky asked, his teeth gritted. "Did he hurt you?"

"No! I got out of there. Fast. And then it happened a few more times. I thought it was..." He made a motion to the back of his head. "But I guess not."

"And Bland? What did he say afterward?"

"_Blaine _didn't say anything." Kurt blushed. "People don't seem to remember. It's like a fugue or something."

"Christ. That sucks, Hummel."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt laughed. "I'm a teenage boy, hell, I'm a _gay_ teenage boy. This is the best thing that could happen to me! People would _kill _for this power!"

"Power? Curse more like."

"You wouldn't understand." Karofsky gave a grunt. "No, you wouldn't. I've known this about me since I was kid. And I've had to live with everything that came with it. Everyone avoiding me, waiting until I had left the locker room before getting changed, disgusted to have me even _touch_ them. You have no idea how lonely it is. No matter what's going on your head now. I've been out there for people to see since I could tie my laces. You haven't. And now? Now all it takes is my little finger to drive them insane. To want _me._"

"You can't seriously _use_this on anyone, Hummel! You can't."

"Why not?" Kurt raised his chin and glared at him. "Why can't _I_cut loose once in a while?"

"Cut loose? Are you _damaged_? It's like giving someone a roofie and a Viagra at the same time!"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic!" Kurt snapped.

"Shit! You've used it on someone!" Karofsky took a surprised step backwards. "You have, haven't you?"

"No! No!" Kurt said quickly. "Of course not."

_Don't think of Blaine, don't think of Blaine, don't think of Blaine._

"You used it against _him_?"

Kurt chose not to reply, placing a hand on his hip and inspecting his nails intently.

"I thought he was your friend, Hummel! How could you take advantage of him like that?"

"Are you kidding me? You are talking to _me_ about taking advantage?" Kurt scoffed. "You expect _me_ to take an ethics lesson from _you?_ Seriously? So it's fine for _you_ to kiss me? It's just fiiiine for _you_to read my mind?"

"That isn't even in the same playing field, Fancy! I can't _help_reading your mind! You can control your...your...whatever it is! And you know it or else why else would you be stood here dressed like a gay cat burglar?" Karofsky broke off and turned away. "As for the kiss?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "I stopped, didn't I?"

This was the last thing Kurt wanted to get into with the moron. Sighing heavily he turned and looked into the mirror, smoothing a stray hair back. "You've made your point, okay? I get it."

"You just… You need to be careful. Sure, you can handle Jacob and Blah but what if you come across someone you _can't_handle? Like a big guy? Someone my size?"

Kurt snapped his head round to peer at the jock, his eyes wide. _Was that a threat?_

"Christ! No. I just meant...watch your step That's all. Stay low and covered until I figure something out."

"What exactly are _you _going to do about it? Whip something up in woodshop?"

"I don't know! I'll think of something." He crossed his arms and for the first time that Kurt could remember the galoot looked almost vulnerable. "I hate knowing what people think about me. _I hate it!_"

Kurt looked away, the moment uncomfortable. Maybe Karofsky did understand what it was like to be him. Or would soon enough. After all. Kurt had been hearing what people thought about him all of his life.

"Hey." Kurt gave a small smile. "Do you have names for any other body parts?"

"What?" Karofsky saw the thought form in Kurt's mind. "No, don't you dare, Hummel!"

Kurt snapped his hand out, pressing the tips of his fingers to Karofsky's wrist. "What do you call your penis?"

"TREVOR!"

Kurt jumped back with a giggle and walked round the boy, who was busy blinking rapidly. "Damnit! You did your weird tapping thing, didn't you?"

"Maybe. I'll leave you, The Fury and Trevor to talk it over, shall I?"

* * *

Who did Karofsky think he was? The Morality Police? Kurt thought on his way to the music room. It would be a totally different story if it was the other way round. Karofsky would probably be having a pool party orgy with all the Cheerios by now. Well, the male ones, anyway.

"Oh," Kurt said as he entered and seeing Sam sat at the piano. "Hi, I didn't realize this room was being used." He held up his sheet music. "I just wanted to practice my assignment for Glee."

"Hey, dude! I won't be long." The blonde smiled back. "You doing Roy Orbison or something?"

"Sorry?" Kurt looked down at his outfit. "Er, no. Black's…in this month."

"You look like the Milk Tray Man." Sam laughed. "I'm just putting finishing touches to a song for Quinn. Do you want to hear? I could do with a second opinion."

Kurt gave a nod and leaned across the piano, chin in his hands as Sam began his song. He really was cute. He should have known that he'd have turned out to be straight. That was just his luck.

Kurt watched entranced as Sam belted out a particular difficult note, causing his large mouth to open even wider. _Hmm, those soft plush lips._

Just his luck?

Well, Kurt Hummel's luck had changed.

"Sam?" Kurt said softly. He slipped off his gloves, placing them on top of the piano.

"What?" Sam broke off singing. "Was I out of tune?"

"No, you're not Finn." He came round the piano and stared down at Sam. "Do you mind if I...?" With a nervous, deep intake of breath he reached out a hand and rested it softly onto Sam's hair.

"It's not bleached it's...FUCK!" Sam leaned into the touch, almost purring in pleasure.

Shaking Kurt began to zip down his jeans with his other hand. It wasn't taking advantage. It wasn't. No matter what Karofsky said. And if he did it right this time he could stop another Blaine aftermath. Sam would never remember. _He wouldn't._

"Can you help me, Sam? Please?" he whispered.

Sam nodded frantically easing himself from the piano stool to his knees. He stared up at Kurt with eyes blown almost black in lust. His hands came to the waist band of Kurt's jeans, tugging them and the briefs down in one violent pull. Kurt's semi erection bobbed out and he gasped at the cool air upon his skin. He didn't get time to savour it before Sam's mouth delved down upon him.

"Oh, my God!" he gasped, his free hand landing down hard on the piano, nails digging into the wood. He struggled to get his breathing under control as Sam roughly blew him. It was clumsy, and sloppy, and just about everything Kurt had _ever _fantasized about. A high pitched whine escaped from his lips when Sam began, holy hell, _humming _around his tip. "Yes! Yes!"

Sam's hands began to roam up and down his thighs as he sucked and Kurt was almost choking on his own breath. It wasn't going to take much longer. He threw back his head and groaned. He was close. So close. He needed to pull himself back. He stared at the wall across the room, concentrating on its dull tone, the framed photographs, the remains of blu-tac where posters had hastily been ripped down, on Puck who was walking through it.

Wait! Puck had just walked _through _the wall?

Kurt stared in shock at the other, his hand entangled in Sam's hair. Puck looked back, his eyes just as wide and surprised. The only noise that filled the room was the distasteful sound of Sam's sucking and slurping.

A clock ticked.

Puck walked backwards slowly, his eyes never leaving Kurt's, disappearing back through the wall.

Kurt would have spent more time thinking it over but Sam chose that moment to take him the deepest yet and gave his balls a small, tight squeeze. Kurt was gone. With a shout he fisted Sam's hair and emptied his load into his still grasping mouth.

"Wow. Wow…" he panted, looking down at Sam with hazy eyes. "That was…amazing." Sam smiled dirtily and licked the tip of Kurt's spent cock, his own eyes closing in pleasure. "No, stop." He pushed the boy off. "Okay, right. Right. I've got this." Kurt attempted to tuck himself back in while keeping his hand on Sam's head. It wasn't a roaring success. "Sam, could you help? No, don't take it out again. Put it back in! Okay, now zip up. Ow! Careful!"

"I WANT TO COME IN YOUR BANGS!"

"Fabulous. But there's enough product in it, thank you. I need you to rise up, come on, and, yeah, sit on this chair."

"I LOVE YOUR COCK!"

"Merci. Er, wipe your bottom lip? Just a bit more. There!" Kurt had to stretch to keep his fingers on the other boy's head. "Here goes!" He let go and took three jumps back.

Sam's filthy grin slipped and fell into a look of puzzlement. He glanced back to where Kurt had been previously standing and then down at the keys. "Er..."

"That was great!" Kurt cooed. "Quinn is going to love it!"

"I sang it?" Sam asked. "I sang it all?"

"Yes! And you were just really, really caught up in the moment." Kurt placed a hand over his heart and sighed. "It was _so_beautiful."

"Really? Well, I'm glad you liked it, dude. Er, I guess I'll let you have the room then." He stood up and rubbed at the back of his head. "Ergh, I have the _funkiest_taste in my mouth."

Kurt smiled. Next time he'd have to remember to fetch some mints.


	3. Chapter 3

**Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.**  
**Chapter 3**

Kurt was having a bad morning.

The worst in fact.

He'd been woken at four in the morning to all seventeen foot of Finn writhing all over him, and yelling. Which was totally_not_his fault. What was he supposed to do? Sleep in a burkha? He had nearly put out his back kicking the giant idiot off him.

_"Sorry! I must have tripped!" Finn had said. "You were moaning in your sleep, Kurt. Like a nightmare or something."_

It seemed that was all he ever had anymore. He'd barely had a good nights sleep in weeks. Ever since that evening with Sam. That night with Blaine.

At first he'd been giddy with the sheer _power_. With finally having _something_go his way.

But then, when the accomplishment ebbed away, he was left with a sick feeling in the pit of his gut. He knew it for it was of course. Shame. Shame and a truck load of guilt. It was like that moment where you wake in the morning, knowing that you were upset about something but you hadn't remembered what it was yet. Except that feeling was with him all the time.

If that wasn't enough, this _thing_ of his seemed intent on messing with his life, with his _sleep_. He'd thought he had known what misery was. Turns out that he had greatly under-estimated it.

Then, this morning, as he had grabbed his bag and headed for the door his father had stopped him with a grin.

And ruffled his hair.

There was no amount of therapy that was ever going to rid his mind of that moment.

"Hey!" Finn said, catching up. "It's only second period. You look dead, man."

"Really, do I seem tired?" Kurt snapped. "Maybe because a damn _tree _fell on me in the night?"

"Dude! I said I was sorry! Also, I just wanted to say sorry about Rachel's storm out yesterday. But you can see her point, right?"

"She told you to talk to me, didn't she?" Kurt sighed, opening his locker. If Finn noticed the missing Blaine picture he didn't say anything.

"Er, no! No. It's just that Mr Schue seems to be giving _a lot_of solos to you lately. Which is totally awesome, don't get me wrong! It's just that we feel that maybe for regionals..."

"That I'd be better off swaying in the background?"

"No, she's not, I mean..._we_ are not saying that. It's just that you getting _so_ many! Oh! Like last week? When we did _Let's Call The Whole Thing Off? _You sang both parts!"

Not Kurt's fault. Not at all. Maybe if Mr Schue wasn't such an _inappropriate hugger_ he wouldn't be in this mess. The fact the teacher had came to on the floor pantless, with a stricken Kurt standing above him with a piano stool was his own problem. If he wanted to make it up to Kurt then fine. Who was he to argue? It would be nice if _something_good came out of this.

"Rachel will just have to share the spotlight for once, Finn. I'm not giving my solo to her. I'm not."

"Fine, okay! Forget I said anything." Finn stood awkwardly staring down at him. "You seem- different lately. Sort of down and angry. More than usual, I mean."

"Gee! Thanks, Finn!" Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"What's wrong? Is something going on with you."

"I'm fine, Finn," Kurt said through gritted teeth. "Peachy."

"So nothing new? Nothing a bit...unusual?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Since, you know, _the storm?"_

Kurt froze. _Did Finn know something?_"Please. Why would the weather change anything." He closed his locker with a bang. "Get a grip, Finn."

His heart hammered in his chest and he turned to walk away, but Finn grabbed him and held his arm tight. "Because if something was, like, I'd totally understand. You know?"

"What do you mean?" Kurt whispered staring up into his face.

"Lately, I... I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. I..." He drifted off and seemed to forget Kurt was even there. "No, wait. Just forget it. Forget I said anything. Just...yeah, forget it." He clapped Kurt on the back. "See you later on, yeah?"

"Finn! Wait!" Kurt made to follow but Karofsky stepped into his path.

"You've been avoiding me," he said. If Kurt thought he had looked tired, the jock was a revelation. You could carry groceries in the bags under his eyes. "For two weeks."

"That's absurd," Kurt muttered. Trying to clear his mind. "I've been busy."

"Oh, what with? High fiving pool boys?"

"We aren't exactly friends, Karofsky. Don't be surprised if I don't offer to come round your house and braid your hair. What I could locate of it, anyway."

"You just don't want me to see what's going on in your..." He made as if to tap Kurt's forehead and remembered in time. "...brain."

_Get out of here, now. Before he sees something_

Karofsky blocked him. "So there _is _something?"

Kurt thought very intently, very specifically, on what Karofsky could do with his mind reading skills.

"Nice, Hummel, nice." He looked as if he was going to press it further than shook his head. "It's not just us."

"What isn't?"

"These freaky ass powers. Apparently yesterday there was a fifty foot Cheerio running round the track. From the description it sounded like Santana Lopez."

"You're kidding me?" Kurt gasped. "She does enough damage at five foot!"

"And that daffy chick in your glee club? With the bangs?"

"Brittany?"

"I just came from the auditorium. She's stuck on the ceiling. Apparently she floated up there this morning and Coach Sylvester has been trying to throw a lasso round her since."

"Are you serious?" Kurt gasped. He clutched at his collar idly. "What the hell was that storm?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. I'm not sure how much longer I can take. This morning my Mum was having a daydream about the milkman. It was so _explicit_. A bottle wasn't supposed to be used like that, Hummel!"

"Hey, Kurt!" Sam said as he passed by. "You okay?" He gave a look at Karofsky and raised an eyebrow. "Want me to walk you to class?"

Kurt blushed and shook his head. Images of Sam on his knees popped into his head and he tried to push them away._Please don't let him have seen that!_

"You sure?" Sam stepped closer, eyeing Karofsky. "I don't mind."

"I'm fine okay, Sam!" He snapped. "We are just talking!"

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever. Just let me know if you need me."

Kurt nodded as Sam walked away and avoided Karofsky's pointed look, playing with the loose bit of material on his leather gloves. To his surprise the other boy didn't push it.

"I'm having a house party this Saturday. You want to come? You can bring Pain?"

"A house party? You're inviting me to a party of _yours_? Seriously?"

"Yeah! Be wild! I'm thinking of inviting Quinn, she's _so_hot, and plying her with wine cooler. As soon as she's all nice and passed out I'll just hop on and go to town."

"Karofsky! That's sick! What are you..." Kurt stopped on seeing the smirk spreading across his face. "Oh. Real subtle."

The smirk dropped. "I'm serious. You have to stop. There is no such thing as a Whoopi Goldberg rape chart. It's all the same. You can't use people like that!"

"When did you become my moral compass?"

"This power, this thing. It's... You said the other day how hard it was for you? How lonely. You adapted, didn't you? You spent your life keeping others away. To keep others from hurting you. Trying to tear you down and all that whiny crap."

_People like you, you mean_

A sigh. "Yeah, people like me, Fancy. You worked so hard on staying safe, on making yourself untouchable. And, hey! Now you really are."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out. He was hit with the complete certainty that if he spoke he was going to cry.

"Think then."

_You're right! You're right! I just wanted someone to _want_ me. Just once. Oh, God. I don't know how to fix it!_

"You spoke to Blargh?"

_These are just getting ridiculous now. It's _Blaine._ And no. He won't answer my calls._

"Well go see him! Man up! Tell him about your power!"

_I can't! He'll hate me!_

"Better than hating himself, don't you think?" Karofsky grunted and gave himself shake. All this talking and lack of punching must be getting to him. "Anyway, what's in people's heads isn't always as bad as you'd think it would be."

"Kurt!" Mr. Schuester appeared at their side. "You alright? You good? You look great! Not in an inappropriate way. I mean, I like your outfit. That's all. Just that. Here, have my coffee! I can get another!"

"You didn't?" Karofsky asked. "Tell me you didn't!"

_I didn't! You think there'd be a face left on me if I let that chin loose on it?_" Er, no thanks, Mr. Schue! I'll see you at class tomorrow."

"You boys should be getting to class now, too. The bell just rang." He went to place a hand on Kurt's shoulder, thought better of it and turned it into a stretch. "I'll, er, see you around. At school I mean. As your teacher! Right. Good talk."

"Don't ask," Kurt said as Schue jogged, no, sprinted off. "Okay. I'll go see Blaine. And just hope that he can forgive me, never mind not kill me. But what about Sam? He doesn't even remember it. What can I do there?" He tapped at his lip absently. "Oh, Avatar is out on Blu-Ray? I could get that?"

"What? _'Sorry I raped you? Here's a bunch of gay smurfs?'_"

"Stop calling it that!"

"I'm calling it how it is! Anyway, he's better off not knowing. You want me to come with you to see..." He gritted his teeth. "Blaine?"

"I'll be fine." Kurt crossed his arms and looked away haughtily. Just because Karofsky could get into his head didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"Look, I'll best head to class. I'm coming with you, no arguing. I'll meet you next to my truck at end of day." Without waiting for Kurt's response he turned away."Oh, and Princess? Don't eat that crumble at lunch. One of the cooks walked past me earlier. She couldn't stop thinking about her uncontrollable psoriasis."

* * *

Kurt pushed open the bathroom door, sighing on seeing someone had already beaten him to the mirror. Wearing all these layers was killing him and leaving him red faced and sweaty. He was even having to touch up his hair between every class. He peered closer at the other boy as he entered. "Jesse?"

_Jesse St James here? Back at McKinley?_

"Oh! Hey, dude. Er..." He gave a weak wave, jumping nervously from foot to foot. "How have you been?"

"What are you doing here?" Kurt demanded. "Spying?"

"No! Wait! I mean. Yeah, I _was_but now I'm going to go! Er, away. Go away! Now you've caught me and and all. Yeah." He nodded and licked his lips. "Could you move?"

"That's it? You're just going? You tried to sabotage us!"

"I know! I was a douche. A massive douche." He giggled and looked into the mirror. "I am a massive, massive douche. With a tiny dick."

"Er, what?" Something was up here. And when did Jesse call him dude. A familiar voice filtered into his mind.

_"I feel like I don't know who I am anymore."_

"Wait. _Finn?_"

Jesse stared back at him in shock. "How did you know? Dude! Are you psychotic?"

Kurt let that one slide. "Why the hell do you look like Jesse St James?"

"I don't know! It's since that storm. I had this fight with Rachel, I thought I caught her looking at Puck's guns, and then I stormed off. The next time I looked in a mirror I was Puck!"

Kurt gave a clap of excitement. "Oh, my God! Can you turn into _anyone_?"

"Pretty much. I was Angelina Jolie in the shower." He blushed. "For, you know, research reasons."

"Turn into me! Turn into me! I want to see what I look like."

"Kurt, there's a mirror _right there._" Finn crossed his arms and pushed a Jesse strand behind his ear. "I can do it when I want. But sometimes when I feel...bad...I just change." His voice lowered to a breath. "Last night, for an hour, I was my dad."

"Oh, Finn!" Kurt felt helpless not being able to hug him. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I'm just sick of being everyone else! What's wrong with just being me?" His voice broke and that was too much for Kurt. He crossed the room and put his gloved hands to Finn's shoulders.

"There is nothing wrong with you, okay? Whether you're the quarterback, the most popular kid or the _janitor_everyone adores you. You need to stop thinking like that!"

Finn nodded, his Jesse hair flying. "Thanks, bro. Really." He put a hand to Kurt's back.

Kurt froze. Because he could feel skin. Skin on his skin.

A hole in his sweater!

"Finn! Wait!" The hand snaked up under his top and Finn's other snaked to his ass, hoisting him up onto his hips. Kurt clung to him for balance while trying to disconnect flesh at the same time. "Let me go, you knuckle head."

Finn ignored him and walked him backwards to an open stall. Kurt tried to push down the hand clinging to his back but it held firm. He looked at the other boy, a plea on his lips but Finn crushed his mouth to his and kicked the door shut behind them.

The kiss was probing, desperate, needy and wet. Kurt moaned into it, his struggles fading as his hands roamed up and down Finn's, no, _Jesse's_, broad back.

Oh, God. This was amazing! Finn could be anyone in the world and Kurt could have them. Jesse, Blaine, Mike...

_Zac Efron!_

No! But this was Finn! His damn near brother. He couldn't do this to him no matter how much, oh, just how much he grinded his hips _just there._

"Finn," he said, the words smothered by the other's frantic kissing. "Stop! I mean it!" Kurt leaned his head back, and lowered his foot to the toilet lid to give him more purchase to push back. Finn was oblivious, now biting at the crook of Kurt's neck. His hand delving down the back of Kurt's jeans, grasping at Kurt's ass.

"No!" Kurt continued to struggle against Finn's grip but Finn wasn't Finn anymore. He wasn't even Jesse. At some point he had became Puck. With all of Puck's strength.

"Let me go! You don't know what you're doing!" Kurt pulled at Finn's mohawk viciously, trying to get him away from his face but Finn just laughed into his mouth. "Please!"

"Hey!" The door flung open with a clatter, hitting Finn hard in the shoulder. "Get off him, Puckerman!" Karofsky's voice filled the stall.

Kurt fell as Finn was pulled backward, cursing as he foot landed deep in the bowl. Thank God the previous user had flushed at least.

Karofsky threw Finn to the floor and stood over him fist raised and jaw set in a tight grimace.

"Don't! Leave him alone," Kurt cried out. "He can't help it!"

The boys turned to look at him, Finn was Finn again. Looking around in confusion he surmised that he was on the ground, Kurt was near sobbing while half stuffed down a U-Bend and Karofsky was throwing his weight around. He did the Math. His expression twisted into fury and he leapt up. "What the hell, Karofsky? Why can't you just leave him be? He's barely the size of your leg!"

"Hudson? What happened to Puckerman?"

"He _is _Puck. I mean, it's Finn but he can shape shift," Kurt shakily explained, disentangling himself from the toilet. "He's like us.'

"Wait. So I get this crappy mind reading thing, you make people super horny and Hudson gets the _cool _power? How is that fair?"

"Kurt can do _what?_" Finn asked, looking from one to the other. "Wait, the storm affected you two? It's not just me?"

"How did this even happen, Hummel? I thought you were keeping covered up? Or did Hudson grab your junk while you were pissing?"

"He touched my hole," Kurt said softly. "I mean- In my shirt. By accident."

He pressed a hand to his forehead, ignoring their stares. He couldn't take this anymore, why couldn't he be able to turn back time or something? Why _this_power? He just wanted to go back to the way he was. He wanted it gone.

He felt like he was suffocating. He had to get out!

"I have to go!" He didn't wait for the others to respond, exiting fast and ignoring the squelch in his shoe as he ran.

Kurt needed to talk to someone. And there was only one person who he wanted that someone to be.

* * *

There was something strange about Dalton. Different from the day that he'd first came here to spy anyway. Sure, it was still more orderly and less chaotic than McKinley but this was a whole new level. Students seemed to move in little dreamy streams, pair by pair, with serene smiles on their faces and pocket watches in their hands. And stranger yet, every single one of them seemed to be humming the same tune.

"Excuse me," he said stopping one. "Do you know where I can find Blaine Anderson?"

The boy looked upset to be broken from the crowd and looked past Kurt with obvious agitation. "I think he is in the common room. Down there to the left."

"Oh. Great, thanks." Kurt turned to go but the boy stopped him.

"Hey, where's your jacket?"

Kurt looked down at himself with a shrug. "I don't have one? I don't go here. I'm just visiting."

"You should get one! You'd love it."

"Riiight." Kurt shrugged. "Okay, I'll bear that in mind."

The boy nodded enthusiastically and jumped back into the crowd, his steps falling quickly into place with the others.

That had been odd. But odd was quickly becoming the only way to describe Kurt's life of late. What was one more oddity?

He scratched at his hands with a sigh as he headed to the room. He so wanted to give his palms at least an hour free of his driving gloves but since Dalton was the one place where people might randomly try to hold his hand he couldn't risk it. He had tried lace gloves which had looked _fabulous_but weren't terribly practical. Earlier in the week his knuckles had grazed against Coach Beiste's thigh during a swell on the stairs and while he didn't know what a human centipede was, he was pretty sure he didn't want to be the middle of one.

Kurt came to the door and drew a big breath. Blaine was probably going to punch him. Kurt would have to loan him his gloves.

But he'd deserve it.

_Here goes. _He pushed the door open.

"Kurt!" Wes and David cried in unison. "What are you doing here?" They rose from the couch, both looking handsome and crisp in their Dalton uniforms.

"I was driving by and...er, thought I'd drop in." Wes and David exchanged a frown at this. "Is Blaine here?"

"Shouldn't you be in lesson, Kurt? It _is_school hours," Wes asked, his eyebrow raised.

"School is important. School shapes you for society," David added. "It readies you for becoming a young gentleman."

Wes gave a curt nod. "Gives you a sense of routine and order."

"Helps you work as one big team. As a unit. All for one."

"And one for all."

"I think I saw the movie of that." Kurt said with a nervous laugh, pulling at the strap of his bag. "Leonardo DiCaprio, right?"

The boys didn't laugh. They simply smoothed down their jackets, pushing out imaginary creases.

"Are you are thinking of joining us, Kurt?" David asked.

"We'd like that. We'd like that a lot."

"Er, actually I just want to discuss something with Blaine. It's kind of important. Do you know where he is?" Kurt's eyes darted between the two. Had they been this strange the last time he had meet them?

"Blaine is in lesson," Wes said. "But he'll be along shortly if you'd like to wait?"

Kurt felt a prickle of unease at the back of his neck. "No, actually. You're right. I should probably just..." He took a step back.

"You should speak to Blaine, Kurt. You seem confused. He could help you."

"Help you like he helped us."

"Helped all of us."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked. "Helped you with what?"

"We had no control. We were selfish. Thinking the world had to sit up and take notice of us. Of our problems, our quirks."

"Thinking that the individual was more important than the group."

"But we know better now." Wes touched at his jacket, tenderly. "Blaine showed us."

"You'd be so much happier here, Kurt. You could be a Warbler."

"Like everyone else here."

"The whole school? Surely that's against the rules." Kurt exclaimed, not caring how ridiculous it sounded. _I should have waited for Karofsky_. "You'll be disqualified!"

Another glance passed between the two and then they both grinned pleasantly. "It's not about the winning. It's about the taking part. Blaine will explain. Then it will all make sense."

"Yes. Everything will make sense when Blaine gets here."

Kurt took another step backward, holding his hands up and waving them off with a dry laugh. "I just remembered I have to meet someone. I completely forgot about..."

"Stay, Kurt. Join us. You're not happy at McKinley, we know that. But here you can belong. Here you can be an equal. Not persecuted every day. Wouldn't you like that?" David nodded, and looked to Wes.

"Zero tolerance. Zero tolerance." They chanted together.

Kurt had seen enough, he turned on his heel prepared to run from the room. Instead, he came face to face with another.

"Hello, Kurt," Blaine said with a charming grin. "Don't forget your jacket."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** _Thank you to all those reading! And thank you to Puckurt-vs-Kurtofsky- message left here as your PMs are disabled. I'm not able to do what you asked- but I'll explain why at the end! Again, thank you to those following._

**Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.**  
**Chapter 4**

"Blaine..." Kurt said in a rushed breath. "Hello!"

"I've got you your very own." Blaine pushed the jacket forward. "I had to guess your size, I choose similar to mine, but we can always make adjustments, can't we?"

Kurt stared down at the garment with wide eyes. "I'd rather- rather not."

"It's just a _jacket_, Kurt." Blaine laughed. "You'll feel better when it's on. Trust me." Blaine took a step closer, licking his bottom lip and shooting Wes and David a worried look. "That night, I wasn't in control. It wasn't me."

"It wasn't your fault," Kurt insisted. "It was mine!"

"I know. I don't have control round you." Blaine smiled sadly. "You took that away from me. Don't worry. I know you can't help that. But I can help _you._"

"I'm sorry for what happened but I think- think maybe I should come back another day. When you're less busy?"

"But we are all in uniform here. Don't you want your uniform? You can be so much better."

"Like us. You can be just like us." Wes and David spoke up. "Don't you want that?"

Blaine gently grabbed Kurt's hand and pushed the jacket into his palm. The material felt soft, almost soothing in his grip. "You should try it on, Kurt. It's like slipping into a warm bath when your muscles are aching. No more worries. No more fears." He smiled. "And we can be together. Wouldn't you like that?"

Kurt faltered as an inexplicable need to press the jacket to his cheek came to him. They were right. It would be so, so much easier.

"One of us, Kurt. One of us."

As Blaine smiled approvingly over his shoulder at Wes and David, Kurt felt a relaxed sensation seeping through his gloves and into his skin. He felt calm and serene. He felt like nothing could possibly upset or unnerve him. He felt like singing in Acapella.

"Think about, Kurt. Don't you want to blend in?" Blaine pressed. "Don't you want that?"

The words cut through the haze and Kurt gave a small gasp. He didn't. He had fought for so long for his right to be himself. Being different was the best thing about him. He couldn't do this.

Not even for Blaine.

He let the jacket slip from his fingers to the ground. "I can't! I'm so sorry but I can't!"

With a strangled cry he pushed past the boy and ran for the door. He heard Blaine call his name but didn't slow down. Distantly, he heard a bell ring indicating a class was out. The students poured from the class room in their steady stream and Kurt grappled his way through them.

"No running in the halls!" They chanted in unison.

The exit! The exit! If he could just get out. Get to his car. He gave a moan of pain as he flung himself through the doors and stumbled down the steps.

There! His baby! He ran, his gait ungraceful and panicked, to the car. Hitting the hood with a crack to his hip, he shot a look over his shoulder. Shuddering as he saw Blaine at the forefront of the others. Smiling.

A cold settled down on his neck and with a certainty he glanced down. He gave a sob and dropped his keys in shock. _Slashed. _Someone had taken care of his only escape.

He shot a panicked look towards the school. They were advancing. He could run, he supposed. But for how long? How long before they got that jacket on his back?

And then he saw it. A familar beaten down truck pulling into the parking lot. And a familar meat headed jock behind the wheel.

_Oh, thank God! _He never thought he'd be so glad to see his former bully's truck. "Karofsky!" He yelled pleading for his limbs to move faster. "Open the damn door!"

The other boy looked through the windshield in shock on seeing Kurt pelting towards him, but he did as he asked and flung the door open."What the hell, Hummel?" he said, as he pulled on Kurt's arm and dragged him up into the seat.

"Quick, quick!" Kurt screeched. "They're coming!"

He peered over Kurt's shoulder with a frown. "You mean that crowd of nicely dressed young men walking towards us in an amiable fashion? Them?"

"Shut up and just drive!" Kurt snapped pulling the belt across his chest. "It's Blaine. He's gone Margot Kidder!"

"Who?"

"Never mind. Just go, just go! It's like the whole school are robots or something." He could feel tears prickling at his eyes. As Karofsky pulled away from the school, tires screeching, Kurt glanced in the side view mirror. At Blaine stood in the distance.

Watching.

* * *

"So you think it's something to do with those girly jackets?" Karofsky asked once they had pulled over on a quiet side of the road, far from the school. Kurt wasn't ready to go home. Not yet. At least not until the shaking had stopped.

"Well, they seemed to be pushing that the most. And, I don't know. The way Wes and David just kept touching them. As if it were for reassurance or something."

"So we can assume Lame was in the storm, then?"

"It's _Blaine_!"

"Come on! I was quite proud of that one." He tapped at the wheel. "We need to do something. Help those losers he's got under control. In the movies you have to kill the head guy to release the rest. You know, like in_ The Lost Boys_?"

"We are not killing Blaine because you like Corey Feldman films. For God's sake." He rolled his eyes. "I just don't understand. Sure, Blaine maybe got turned by the storm. But why would it make him like _that?_"

"Well." Karofsky shifted in his seat to look at him. "It made you do things you wouldn't normally do?"

_And it made you into a halfway decent person_, he thought before he could stop himself. Karofsky didn't react, though. He just continued to stare at Kurt thoughtfully.

To be specific at Kurt's lips.

Kurt suddenly became aware of his surroundings. He was in the middle of nowhere with Dave Karofsky, his former bully. A guy that could bench press him for a week without breaking a sweat, a guy that had once forced a kiss on him in the lockers and now Kurt had this horrible new power.

And they were alone.

"Damnit, Hummel!" Karofsky punched the wheel, his face red with anger. "You'd think I'd seriously do anything? I just saved you from the school of Stepford for fucks sake!"

"I didn't-"

"Don't you wish I could take it all back?" He turned to glare at him. "Well?"

Kurt looked down into his lap, at his gloved hands. "I don't know what to think! One minute you're throwing me in dumpsters, then you're kissing me, then threatening to kill me. Now you seem to be my- what? Confidant?" He sighed deeply. "My head is all over the place."

"I know. I can _hear _it." Karofsky scratched at the back of his neck roughly. "So is mine. But- not as much as it was before this. Things seem clearer now."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.

"I spent so long scared what people would think. My parents. My friends. But what's in there isn't as scary as I thought, you know? And they _love _me. I never realised just how much." Kurt was surprised to see moisture gathering in the other boy's eyes. "They've got so many problems, too. Insecurities. Issues. The whole school does. Hell, I put half of them there myself." He gave a dark chuckle and then glanced sideways. "I was scared of you, Hummel."

"Of me? I'm about as threatening as milk."

"Scared of how you made me _feel_. Made me no longer able to ignore what I am. But I'm not scared anymore. I'm not- I'm not as scared of myself as I was then."

"No?" Kurt felt himself blushing, wishing he could think of something comforting and sage. Like something that Blaine would have said before he turned into Jim Jones.

"I'm sorry, Hummel. Okay? I can't take any of it back, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry I bullied you. I'm sorry I pushed you into that storm and gave you this damn thing in the first place." His voice softened. "But I'm _not _sorry I kissed you. Because I'll never be able to again. And I wouldn't give that up for anything." He gave a bitter laugh. "I'd maybe change the method of application, however."

"Karofsky-" Kurt murmured not entirely sure what he was going to say but he was saved the effort.

"Don't. You don't need to say anything. I _know _you don't want me like that. That you never will. But I'm going to be here for you. I'm going to make it up to you."

Kurt blushed. Was that a twinge of regret he could feel in his chest? He leaned over and placed his hand over Karofsky's. "I can't be with _anyone _like that. Not anymore."

"Sure you can," Karofsky said in a fake bright voice. "It'll be like that _Pushing Daisies_ show but even gayer and less shit."

"Charming." Kurt smiled weakly. "I- I think I'm ready to go home now?"

"Sure, sure." He fired up the engine. "Anything for you, Lady Di."

_Karofsky?_ he thought. _Thank you._

* * *

"Hey, boy. Where you been? I've been calling you?" Mercedes said, dropping down beside him in Glee club. "Where'd you disappear to yesterday? You missed practice."

"Don't ask, I-" The words died in his throat as he looked at her. Really looked at her. "Mercy! Where's the rest of you?"

Mercedes smiled and crossed her slim legs. She couldn't be more than a size four. That was impossible in what? Two weeks? "I'm not sure you'd believe me." She slipped a hand into her duffel bag and removed a bag of potato chips. "It's kind of crazy insane."

"Oh, trust me. I'll believe you." Kurt couldn't tear his eyes away. It was like a different girl. He wasn't sure if he liked it. "The storm, right?"

"How did you know?" She ripped open the packet, digging in and coming up with a handful. "It's freaky as all hell. Since that night, the more I eat the thinner I get. But the weird thing is that if I don't eat, it all goes back on. I skipped lunch yesterday and I had to have seven helpings last night. My jaw is killing me!"

"That's fantastic! And kind of horrible. And fantastic!" Kurt frowned and bit his lip. If his best friend had been affected maybe it was time to come clean about his own power. "Can I tell you something?" Kurt gave a quick look around. Quinn was a few seats ahead, reading. Rachel was at the piano practising warm up vocals. This was for Mercedes' ears alone. "The storm left me with something, too."

A gasp to his left made them both jump. "You two _both _have powers?"

They looked at the empty seat. They looked at each other.

"Tina?" Mercedes ventured. "Is that you?"

"Yes! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Kurt blinked and opened his eyes to see Tina sitting next to him, a smile of excitement on her pretty face. "I was first one here and I didn't want to be stuck in small talk with Rachel."

"Understandable." Kurt nodded. "And, oh, my God! You can go invisible?"

""Now_ that_ is an awesome power!" Mercedes waggled her fingers against Tina's.

"I know! I've watched Mike shower three times this week."

The three went silent as they contemplated the thought.

"So, what's your power, Kurt?" Mercedes asked after a moment."You were about to tell me."

Kurt shot a nervous look at Quinn, who was pretending and failing to give the impression that she wasn't listening. "Er- I can shoot fire out of my eyes."

"Hmm, odd," Tina said. "Cool. But odd. Quinn! What about you?"

"Yeah, Q. What can you do?"

"I have no idea what you're all talking about," she answered primly without turning around. "It's utterly ridiculous."

"Oh, come on! We told ours," Tina pushed. "Did you get caught in the storm?"

"Maybe you lot are happy to be freaks." She stood up, the book clattering to the floor unnoticed. "And want the whole world to know, but some of us are happy to be normal, thank you." Without glancing at them she stormed from the music room.

"Can baby hormones affect you for, like, the rest of your life?" Tina asked after a stunned moment.

_She's lying_, Kurt realised with a start. He didn't know how he knew but he was sure. Not that he could judge. He'd lied too.

"Fellow glee clubbers," Rachel burst out, completely oblivious to Quinn's storm out. "Those that bothered to turn up and aren't too busy running through walls or camouflaging into the background, that is."

"What?" Kurt asked, confused.

"Puck and Sam," Tina explained. "They have powers, too."

"Sam can _camouflage?_"

"Hello?" Rachel clapped her hands in quick succession. "Regional's are in a month, guys. And it appears I am the only here that cares. We've been wasting practice after practice giving solos to people that are not equipped for the full magnitude of having the _entire show_ rest on their elfin shoulders. Kurt, while you have a lovely voice, it is like _Marmite_. And we can't risk splitting the judges down the middle." Mercedes rolled her eyes at Kurt while unwrapping a twinkie. "Which is why I have put together a piece that expresses that feeling of solitude perfectly." She fiddled with the dial on her stereo. "I think it will make an excellent solo for the competition."

_When I was young  
I never needed anyone  
And making love was just for fun  
Those days are gone  
Livin' alone  
I think of all the friends I've known  
When I dial the telephone  
Nobody's home_

Rachel, as always, was pitch perfect. She clutched at her chest and squeezed her eyes tight as she sang. Genuine emotion in every lyric. As the lyrics washed over him, Kurt felt a stirring in his chest. A feeling of abject misery seemed to be rushing through his veins.

_All by myself  
Don't wanna be  
All by myself  
Anymore_

_Hard to be sure_  
_Sometimes I feel so insecure_  
_And loves so distant and obscure_  
_Remains the cure_

It was true. This was it for the rest of his life. Alone. So alone. He'd never have love. Never feel the touch of another again. Not Blaine. Not…_Karofsky_. He couldn't even give his own father a hug in case it turned into a scene from a V.C Andrews novel.

_All by myself  
Don't wanna be  
All by myself  
Anymore  
All by myself  
Don't wanna live  
All by myself  
Anymore_

Tina began to rock back and forth, a soft wail emanating from her. Mercedes was sobbing openly. Her snack crushed into her fist, she began to beat at her own chest wildly.

_When I was young  
I never needed anyone  
Making love was just for fun  
Those days are gone_

He couldn't _take _it anymore. How could he go on another day like this? Oh, Christ the pain!

He wanted to _die._

To his side he saw Tina frantically searching for something in her bag. "Scissors! For art!" She hissed, flipping them open as she pulled them out. The blade shimmered under the room's lights. "You can have them after me," she promised, bringing the edge to her wrist.

_It wasn't fair! Why couldn't he go first? Why did he always have to be last? He wanted to die_ now_! He didn't want to wait._

"Don't be so selfish!" Mercedes hissed. "Just plunge it into your throat. It'll be quicker!"

"Oh! Okay!" Tina pushed the scissors to her neck and closed her eyes.

"Stop!" Rachel screamed, as the melody continued in the background. "What are you doing?"

Tina blinked. "I- Oh, my God!" With a gasp she dropped the scissors to the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Mercedes shrieked. "That was- horrible!"

Kurt's breath was coming in harsh, shallow breaths. He'd actually been ready to _kill himself!_

"I think it was me," Rachel said in a small voice. "I think it was my song."

"Your song made us so depressed that we were fighting over stationary to end ourselves with?" Mercedes snapped. "Did you _know _it could do that?"

"Well, since that storm-" Rachel began. "There have been one or two incidents, yes."

"And you sang _anyway?_" Kurt asked, shocked. "When you knew it could do that?"

"I just wanted to show you…" She flapped her hands in the air in frustration. "Guys, you're not getting it! My flawless range and depth of emotion has always moved people but now it can _really _move people. Do you realize what this could mean for me, I mean, us?"

"What? Vote for us or Berry will lull you into suicide?" Mercedes stood up and brushed her ruined twinkie from her hands. "Hell no! Forget that! I'm out of here. Are you two coming?" Tina stood up to follow, still visibly shaken.

Kurt looked at Rachel, at her hurt face and the rejection in her eyes. "Give me a minute?" Mercedes shrugged and the two walked out, their heads in the air. "Rachel, are you okay?"

Rachel gave him a shocked look and then settled her face into a neutral expression. "Clearly they don't understand that true art should be one that pushes your emotions to the limits." Kurt tilted his head and gave her a hard look. She sighed. "No," she admitted. "I'm not alright." She walked towards him, picking up Quinn's dropped novel on the way. "I shouldn't have picked that song." She said sitting down in the seat that Tina had just leapt from. "It was a mistake."

"It could have been worse. It could have been The Smiths. What about a happy one? Something by the B52s?"

"Doesn't work either. I sang Bobby McFerrin last night and my Dads got so happy that they nearly had heart attacks from joy."

"Oh, right." Kurt grimaced. "Well! We'll just have to find you some middle ground. Oh! What about Maroon 5? They are pretty soulless and devoid of emotion?"

"I've tried everything. Even Dido." She bit back a sob. "It's my voice. I can't stop it. All I ever wanted was for people to feel something when they heard me. And now they feel _too _much." She began to cry softly, her tears falling onto the book's raised _Up the Line_ title. He removed it from her lap and took her hands into his gloved ones. "I'm nothing without my voice, Kurt."

"Yes, you are!" Kurt insisted. "I know it seems bleak now. But it'll get better. We'll figure something out. And we'll be here for you while we do that. Me, the club. Finn."

"Finn," she snorted. "I don't even know who he is anymore."

"Literally or-?"

"What? I don't know. He just seems so distant. Always avoiding me. He doesn't know. How do I even tell him?"

"He loves you for _you_. Despite your many, many flaws. Not being able to sing in case he ends up garroting himself with his own sock isn't going to change that." He gave her hands a squeeze and was pleased to see her tears were beginning to thin.

"You're so sweet, Kurt. In your own bitchy way, that is." She pulled him into a warm hug that Kurt gladly gave into, her cheek against his. It was sweet, comforting and it took a moment for Kurt to realize something was wrong.

Rachel gave a sharp hitch of her breath.

Oh. _That_.

"Wait, Rachel!" Kurt tried to push her away but her hands were snaking up under his shirt across his stomach. He was going to have to start wearing _cat-suits _at this rate. "No!"

"YOU'RE SO CUTE! I WANT TO GOBBLE YOU UP."

"No, you don't, Rachel. Trust me!" He grabbed her wrists but she was nibbling his ear. "Ew, stop that!"

"I WANT TO DRESS YOU UP LIKE VICTORIAN SCHOOL BOY!"

"What?"

"STOP SQUIRMING! I WANT TO MAKE YOU HIT A HIGH F!"

"Let's not and say we did?" He cringed as she licked across an eyelid. That was it. He was going to have to hit her in the face. Could he hit a girl?

_"TOUCH ME! TOUCH ME! I WANT TO FEEL YOUR BODY!"_

Was Rachel-singing? It was unlike her usual voice. Loud and graceless, like Katy Perry without the auto tune, but it was _definitely _singing.

And it was affecting him.

"No! Don't sing! Stop singing!" he pleaded even as his struggles began to grow lax. Oh, Christ. Damn Sam Fox to hell.

_"TOUCH ME! TOUCH ME NOW! TOUCH ME! TOUCH ME NOW!"_

Kurt groaned in desire and did as she asked, his hands cupping her small breasts. He felt like he was going to burst. He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Rachel Berry. He ripped open her shirt and brought his lips to her collar bone, kissing down her skin until he reached her bra, mouthing her hard nipples through the material. How had he been so blind mooning over boys when there was a sex bomb like her around? God, he had to have her. He had to-

_"TOUCH ME!"_

"I am, I am!" He wrapped his arms around her and fell backward from the seat, bringing the girl down on top of him, hard. They continued to touch and she continued to sing as the two writhed, moaned and stripped. He rolled her on the floor so he was on top and planted kisses on every visible piece of skin he could press with his lips.

How could he have thought that he was gay? It was _absurd_.

His hands moved lower, cupping between Rachel's legs as she began the song over and he gasped at the wetness. He couldn't wait. _He needed inside of her now._ She encircled her legs round his waist and pressed their groins together. "Yes," he gasped as he eased himself in with his hand. She shuddered, gasped and moaned in pleasure beneath him, her verse faltering as she adjusted to the pain. _It was her first time. _Dimly, he thought he could hear a voice calling from inside of him. Telling him to stop. Begging him. He paid it no mind. It was a full moon in the city and the night was young. He was hungry for love. He was hungry for fun.

And even fainter he thought he could hear footsteps enter the choir room. He ignored this, too, burying his face in Rachel's gorgeous girl hair as he thrust. _Rachel's heartbeat next to mine._ he thought as waves of pleasure ran over him. _And he wanted her body all the time.__  
_


	5. Chapter 5

**Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.**  
**Chapter 5**

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Finn screamed, his voice seeming to tear into the room. Startled Rachel stopped singing, tilting her head sideways to see the commotion. The break was enough to bring Kurt crashing back to reality almost painfully.

"Oh, my God!" He disentangled himself quickly and pushed away, grabbing at his clothes to cover himself. "Oh, my God!" He had just had sex with a _girl!_ His step-brother's girl in fact. And his step-brother had walked in. "Finn! This isn't what it looks like!"

"Well, the Heimlich maneuver is from the back so...?"

Quinn, too? Could this get any worse?

"Why am I naked?" Rachel shrieked. "Why am I...? Oh, my God!"

"I know! I know!"

"Did we?"

"We did! We did!"

At his words Rachel groaned and pulled up her legs, resting her face on her knees. She began to howl.

"Finn, you need to listen to me. It wasn't our fault. Our powers sort of got tangled up in each other!" Kurt tried to reason, pulling his pants in front of his groin. He kept his eyes to his step-brother's devastated face and tried to ignore Rachel's soft sobbing. It hurt too much.

"I thought you shot fire out of your eyes? Did you burn off her chastity belt?" Quinn asked, an eyebrow raised. Next to her Finn was shaking in fury, his eyes full of angry tears.

"How could you do this to me?" he asked, his eyes flickering between the two. "How could you betray me like this?" He didn't wait for an answer, fleeing the music room and leaving Quinn staring down at them, her lips twisted in distaste.

"Finn! Come back!" Kurt sank into the chair with his face in his hands. Dimly, he could see Quinn had joined them and was gently trying to persuade Rachel to dress. "Rachel?" He whispered. "I'm so sorry. It's my skin. There's something wrong with it since the storm. I tried to fight you off but then you began to sing..." Despite wanting to know if she was hearing him. He couldn't look at her.

"Don't you talk to me! Don't you dare!" She spat, pulling her clothes on roughly and slapping at Quinn's hands as she tried to help. "You took something precious and magical from me! Do you know how special that was meant to be? What it means to a girl?" She gasped, her hand to her chest. "I just lost my virginity to a homosexual. Oh, my God! I'm Katie Holmes!" She stabbed a finger towards him. "You _raped_ me!"

"What?" Kurt said, snapping his head up. "No! We raped each other. And technically you raped me more than I raped you. I mean, I did say _No_ more."

"Kurt?" Quinn spoke up. "It's not _Top Trumps_."

"I can't even look at you, right now!" Rachel spat storming past him. "Just keep away from me, _Rape Skin!_"

They watched her go in silence. Quinn was the first to break it. "Oh, ew. I just got an image of your children. It was like the extras from _Willow_ crossed with Jim Henson."

"Please don't." He felt her presence at his side. "I don't need more things burned into my retinas."

"You should finish dressing. Here," she handed him his shirt, careful not to touch his fingers. "It's okay you can-" She gave a twirl with her fingers and turned her back, giving him privacy.

He dressed quickly, sniffling all the while. Why did it just keep getting worse? Every time he thought he had it under control he messed up again. He should become a recluse. It was the only way to protect himself. Protect others. "I'm ready," he told Quinn softly, pushing his fingers into the gloves.

"So, you lied about your power?" She sat down next to him. "Why?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, I've got plenty of time," she whispered. "Tell me, Kurt."

So he did. He told her about the storm. The power. About what he had done to Blaine. He told about his near miss with Finn and how he had nearly been brainwashed at Dalton. He told her about Karofsky.

But he didn't tell about Sam. He had enough people hating him as it was.

"I don't know what to do! I don't know!" He cried, clutching at his knees. "I just don't!"

Quinn's hands were making lazy circles on his back as he sobbed. "Shh, Kurt." She soothed. "It's okay. Hey! Do you want to hear something funny? Azimio is outside throwing people into the dumpster. Without hands."

"He's telekinetic?" Kurt gasped. "Why does an idiot like him get that power and I get _this_?"

"Hmm, maybe not so funny. I don't know, Kurt. Maybe it's true. Be careful what you wish for? Sometimes you can get what you've always wanted and it doesn't change anything. You're still you. You still hurt."

"I just wish I could take it all back. All of it."

"You can't, Kurt." Quinn said, her hand stilling. "You can't."

He wiped at his running nose, mildly disgusted at himself. "Okay. What do you think I should do?"

"Go home. Explain to Finn." She smiled coyly. "And then call Karofsky and take him for a something to eat at Breadstix."

"Are you on _glue?_ What?"

"You've been sitting sobbing for half an hour and the only time you came up for air was when you said his name. _"Karofsky saved me from this, Karofsky saved from that."_ And every time you'd get that look in your eyes." She smiled. "You're hooked."

"I am not! Take that back!"

"Are you five? No, you like him! You just don't know it yet."

_That was ridiculous! He didn't like Karofsky!_

"That is ridiculous! I don't like Karofsky! He has made it his life mission to make mine hell! I would never want him." Kurt choked back a sob. "And even if I did... if I did like him? I could never have him like _this._"

"Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself! And yes, you could so have him. If you worked at it, that is. The storm changed us, Kurt. We aren't who we were anymore. And we have to accept that. The Karofsky that threw you into lockers is gone."

She wasn't looking at him, instead staring down at the floor. "Quinn, what's your power?"

She removed her hand from his back, leaning over and picking up her book. "I came back. For this." She explained, inspecting it with a wrinkled nose. "There best not be any love leavings on it."

"Quinn..." Kurt reached out a hand as she stood up. "Wait."

"I can't. Go home, Kurt. Talk to Finn." She clutched the book to her chest, making her way down the steps. "Oh, and you might want to bleach your penis, too."

* * *

Kurt stepped off the bus and onto his street with a sigh. At some point he was going to have to explain to his father about the car. But that would also mean explaining about strange, sexual powers and boy's with mind control. It wasn't a conversation he was particularly _dying_ to have.

And what had Quinn been going on about? All that stuff about him liking Karofsky. A boy that made Barney the Dinosaur look like Nikola Tesla? Did she _really_ think that Kurt could ever be interested in galoot like him? Did she _really_ think that he'd be swooning over that Desperate Dan head, that thinning hair, that dark Heathcliffe like intensity and those big manly man shoulders? Damnit! Okay, maybe he was a _little bit_ attracted. Just a tad. But if he was, it wasn't _his_ fault. Kurt was the tide and Karofsky's giant moon face was dragging him in with his gravitational pull.

He really didn't want to go home. He toyed with going Karofsky's but that would mean another bus. And Karofsky would only end up yelling at him for disturbing a rose in the west wing or something. Plus, when he was feeling all over the place like this maybe seeing the jock wasn't the best of ideas.

He trudged rather than walked to his house. Finn had been insecure enough without this ridiculous mess. Bad enough your girlfriend gets pregnant with your best friend, but then the new one sleeps with his gay step-brother? Would he ever forgive him? Would he even _believe_ him?

He paused at the door, taking a deep breath. _You can do this, Kurt. You can do this. _

Something stopped him. A sense of eerie foreboding overcame him before he pressed his key to the lock. Not even knowing why, he moved to the left slowly. To the living room window. Kurt crouched beneath the pane, peering in. There was a figure on the couch staring up at another. It was familiar.

It was wait... It was _him!_ Finn must have shape-shifted into him in his anger. Kurt squinted leaning closer. And oh, God!

Finn was wearing a Dalton jacket.

Kurt's eyes darted back to the figure in front of Finn and cursed through his teeth.

Blaine. _Of course._

Blaine was frowning and glancing round the room, his hands on hips. Finn, as Kurt, simply smiled and folded his fingers in his lap. Every now and then Finn would give a dreamy little shrug. Well, he certainly looked calmer. And cuter.

He needed to do something! Anything! But he couldn't do it alone. Frantically, he pulled his cell out of his pocket, fingers flying through his contacts. Karofsky had put his number in only the other day for emergencies, but Kurt had assumed he'd, oh, you know, put it under his _actual_ damn name. "Come on, come on," he muttered. "Where are you?"

He groaned when he got to the Ts. Stabbing the dial for _TREVOR_ with his thumb. "Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick... Karofsky!"

"Hummel, booty call?" Kurt groaned and shot a look through the window. Finn was now sitting alone, mooning over a pocket watch, his eyes half closed in bliss. "Kurt?"

"He's here. He has Finn!" Kurt whispered, his eyes scanning the room for the other boy.

"Bland?" Karofsky asked. "At your house?"

Kurt's fingers tightened around the phone in annoyance. "For the last time. It's _Blaine!_"

"Yes, Kurt. Yes, it is," A voice said agreeably from behind him.

The hairs on the back of Kurt's neck stood up and slowly he turned round. Dread flooding into the pit of his stomach. "Blaine?"

"Hummel? What is it? Is he with you? Stall him! I'm coming over!" Karofsky's voice seemed far away. Tinny and lost.

"Come inside, Kurt. Come inside and see the others." Blaine took Kurt's arm in a tight grip and pulled him upright.

"Others?" The phone dropped unnoticed to the floor. Karofsky's voice crying out Kurt's name from the ground. "What do you mean?"

Blaine simply smiled and walked him to his front door. Kurt stepped through in an almost daze.

"Blaine, please?" Seeing Blaine smile politely over his shoulder Kurt followed his stare.

"Hello, Kurt," said his father, his arm around Carole. "Do you like our jackets?"

* * *

"No!" Kurt pulled his arm from Blaine's grip. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"I did it for you, Kurt. So we can be together," Blaine said. "I know you'd feel a lot better about the situation if your friends and family were at Dalton with you."

"You think I'd feel better about you brainwashing everyone I care about?"

"Well, yes. Don't you?" Blaine seemed genuinely puzzled. "I did it for you."

"I love who they are for _them_, Blaine! You can't take away their inviduality. It isn't right!"

"But I had jackets made for all your friends. Mercedes, Artie, Tina. _Finn._ I'm afraid I gave yours to him. I wasn't aware of his...condition." Blaine held up his hands. "I know, I know. It's a drag. You'll have to wear a slightly larger one until I get a new one for you. But you'll make it work. You always do."

"I don't want a fucking jacket!"

"Kurt Hummel. I did not raise you to speak like that. Apologize to your nice friend. " Burt spoke up. A look of mild irritation on his face. "Now, young man."

"Dad!" Kurt cried running to him and pulling at his labels. "Take this off, please!"

"Don't be selfish, son. We are happier this way."

"Better," Carole agreed. "More in control."

"Come on, Kurt," said Finn in his Kurt voice. He joined his father and Carole, encircling their arms with a smile. "Come with us. It's great."

Karofsky was right. He _did_ have tiny teeth.

"Finn told me about what happened with Rachel. What you did? You can't control this power of yours, Kurt. But I can."

"It was an accident!" Kurt spun facing him. "I can't... I can't put one of them on!"

"Yes, you can. Finn? Fetch Kurt his jacket. Thank you." He turned back to Kurt. "Can you live with yourself blundering from person to person? Hurting them? Hurting yourself?"

"I..." Kurt's eyes flickered around the room, at his father and step family. Finn gave him a grin and held up the jacket. "You don't understand."

"I do. I understand, Kurt. The pain you feel. The shame. The regret. And I can make it all go away. I can make you feel good."

Kurt looked at Blaine, his eyes shining. Finn was approaching him with the garment now and he could feel calm ebbing from it towards him.

Kurt gave a tiny whimper.

"Emotions are horrible chaotic, messy things. They make us selfish. Hurtful. They cause us pain. I've found a way to stop all that. For me. For others." Blaine gave him a probing look. "For you, if you let me?"

"Blaine. I don't know. I think..."

"Stop thinking. It can't help you. Just put on your jacket." Blaine took it from Finn. "A life without pain, Kurt."

_A life without pain._

It was tempting. So tempting. Look at today. Look at Sam. Look at Blaine. He'd always thought he was a good person. Deep down anyway. But the events of the last two weeks had taught him he was anything but.

All he did was hurt people. Ever since the storm.

Maybe now was time to stop.

"Your family is with me, now, Kurt. And soon all your friends will be too. And you'll be alone. Aren't you tired of being lonely?"

"I don't want that. No, I don't... I don't want to be alone."

"Then don't be, Kurt. Be with us."

Kurt locked his eyes on Blaine and nodded slowly, swallowing over the lump in his throat. With a pleased smile Blaine helped him into the jacket. Smoothing it down neatly once it was on.

"How do you feel?" Blaine asked, his eyes dark.

"I feel..." Kurt began. "I feel..."

_Wonderful!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.  
Chapter 6**

"Good morning, Wes. Good morning, David," Kurt said as they passed in the Dalton hall. They smiled back pleasantly and nodded.

It was just so nice here! He couldn't believe he had been resisting it for so long. He sighed as he tucked his bag tighter on his shoulder. He'd be sad to graduate. He hoped he'd _never_ have to leave Dalton.

"Kurt!" Blaine called from behind. Stopping, Kurt waited for the other boy to catch up. "There you are. I've been looking for you."

"I've been studying. I have been rather lax on my school work since the storm."

"Good, I'm glad. Because schoolwork..."

"Enriches the mind." Kurt finished. "Knowledge is the most important gift of all."

"Yes. Wonderful, Kurt! Oh! I'm thinking of adding gloves to the uniform. I know how you hate to stand out."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Blaine."

Blaine smiled and reached across Kurt's front to take his right hand but Kurt stopped him. For a moment Blaine's face fell in disappointment. Until Kurt walked round him to his left, taking the hand Blaine had offered with his right.

"There. That'll be easier," Kurt explained.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Blaine looked at their linked fingers, frowning before breaking into a grin. "See? We make a great team."

"Yes, we do." Kurt said contentedly. "Warbler practice?"

"That's right. We've had to move it to the assembly hall because of the size of the group."

"Thanks again for letting me bring my neighbors. Mrs Grange has always wanted to go back to school."

"No problem, Kurt. Anything for you. Oh!" Blaine bit his lip in frustration. "I left my music sheets in my room. You go on without me and I'll meet you there."

"Of course. But you should really prepare for the next day the night before, Blaine. It saves time."

* * *

Kurt continued along, smiling and nodding at his fellow classmates. He hoped that he could be near the back for today's practice. He'd hate to make a spectacle of himself.

"There! Go on! He's alone!" A voice insisted at his left. It sounded an awfully lot like Rachel. "Quickly!"

"Er..."

Kurt turned to the voice, his eyebrow raised in polite query.

"Hello, Dave." Kurt was pleased. The other boy was standing over him, looking hot and uncomfortable in a Dalton jacket that looked a shade too small. Behind him he could see Quinn, Sam, Puck, Mercedes and Rachel dressed the same, all making frantic hand gestures at Karofsky. It was strange that Blaine hadn't mentioned this to him but he supposed the boy was very busy. And it was awful nice he'd brought all his friends here for him.

"Hello, erm...Kurt." Karofsky mumbled. "Er..."

"Ask where Finn is!" Rachel hissed. She saw Kurt's questioning look and settled her face into a blank stare. "Taylor Swift is an innovator," she said in monotone.

Mercedes gave her a sharp jab in the ribs. She was a lot larger than the last time he had saw her. He did hope that she would be able to maintain the same size in her time here. Otherwise they would keep needing to adjust the jacket. And that would be a terrible waste of material.

"Where are you going, Kurt?" she asked. "Will Finn be there? Your family?"

"Of course," Kurt shook his head. How silly! "I'm going to Warbler practice and they are Warblers, aren't they?"

"I bet Finn is getting all the solos there, too." A girl's voice muttered. Kurt looked to the source, an empty space at the wall.

"That was me!" Quinn piped up. "Er, I meant... Is Finn singing solos?"

"We are a team here, Quinn." Kurt took her hand. "We _are_ all equal." He grabbed Karofsky's hand with his other. "Come on. You can walk to practice with me." He turned to the others with an expectant expression on his face. Rachel and Mercedes gave each other a look that could only be described as confused and linked hands. That couldn't be right of course. No one at Dalton got confused. "Sam? Puck?"

"No way!" Puck growled. "I'm not down with hand holding. That's totally gay!"

A steady stream of in sync student footsteps had been sounding throughout the halls during this exchange. At this utterance they stopped. A dead quiet replacing it in the air. A hiss began to sound. "Zero tolerance, zero tolerance, zero tolerance."

"I mean... Gay like in the 1950s! Totally fun and all that crap." He grabbed at Sam's hand. "Lead the way!"

"Hmm," Kurt turned, leading them to the auditorium.

They were behaving very strangely. But perhaps not everyone settled in as fast as he and his family had. They would soon, though. Blaine would see to that.

"After rehearsal we could go the common rooms and listen to some Phil Collins?" He suggested, looking up at Karofsky. He was glad he was here. That they were now friends. It was nice. "And Wes is planning on having a mean game of solitaire so we'll be there supporting him, of course. Light competition can be enjoyable in moderation."

"Solitaire?" Mercedes muttered. "Phil Collins?"

"I still have those scissors in my bag. Before it gets that far." That hadn't sounded like Rachel but when Kurt turned round she shot him a sunny smile. He shrugged it away.

"I'm glad Blaine brought you guys." He gave both Karofsky and Quinn's hands a squeeze. "He said he'd bring all my friends here. He is _so_ wonderful."

"Kurt." Mercedes spoke up. "Are you okay? Here, I mean?"

"Of course!"

"Really?" Karofsky asked. A bead of sweat was escaping from his temple and his voice sounded almost nervous. "Don't you miss being, well, _you_?"

"No. Of course not. I was so over the place before. Always screaming for attention. I mean, you saw the clothes I used to wear." He chuckled. "Well, surely you don't miss being the way you were before? All that confusion and pain. Don't you feel better now there's nothing to worry about?"

"Yeah. I mean- yes. I'm fine. Fine. Totally fine." Kurt frowned. The last thing Karofsky looked was fine. In fact, he looked a little sad. Being at Dalton shouldn't make you sad. Kurt would have to mention it to Blaine. He'd know what to say.

"Here we are. Let's get a place over there. I see a space."

"This place is rammed," Mercedes said. "These are _all_ Warblers?"

Kurt didn't get a chance to answer, the opening bars to Katy Perry's _Firework_ starting up. He gave them all a grin and turned towards the stage. To Blaine. He looked cool, calm. In control.

The school began to hum.

"Ow! That guy just totally fist pumped into my face!" A girl screeched. From the corner of his eye Kurt saw a student looking down at his own hand in confusion. That had sounded like Tina? But that couldn't be right. Blaine had banned powers from being used during school hours. And no one would even think about disobeying that ruling.

Not if they had a jacket.

Kurt looked closer at his friends from McKinley. They didn't look cool. They didn't look calm. They didn't look in control.

They weren't even harmonizing!

His eyes trailed down to their jackets. He had to be sure. If Blaine had given the uniform to them than surely...

The fringe. It wasn't maroon. Good God. It was _rouge!_

Karofsky turned sideways, eyes widening as he heard the thought. "Kurt! Wait!"

Kurt shook his head, running forward and leaping up on a chair. The singing died down and hushed whispering took its place.

_"Kurt's drawing attention to himself."_

"That's not like him."

"They're not with us." Kurt announced pointing at the group "The jackets are just cheap imitation."

A gasp broke out across the hall and almost immediately a crowd began to gather, creating a circle around the outsiders.

"This isn't good," Mercedes said in panic. "Nuh, uh. Not good. Not good."

"Don't freak out, okay. Everyone just stay cool." Karofsky turned to Kurt. "Listen, Hummel. Just take that off and come back to McKinley, yeah?"

"I'm happy here, Dave," Kurt said stepping down off the chair. "I'm better."

"No, you're not! You can't be! You're _supposed_ to stand out! You're _supposed_ to be loud, and selfish, and irritating and come to school dressed in orange and pink looking like a deranged Juicy Fruit gum!" Karofsky was yelling now, tears of frustration in his eyes. "You're _supposed_ to turn heads when you come mincing down the hall! You're _supposed_ to be... To be... This amazing, untouchable, gorgeous, stupid, brilliant, bitchy, ice queen, little prick!" Karofsky choked on a gasp. "You supposed to be the boy I can't get out of my damn head! You're supposed to be _Kurt fucking Hummel_!"

"Whoa." Puck said under his breath. "I told you! It's all the hand holding. It's made Karofsky gay,"

"Kind of on the clock here," Sam said, his eyes darting nervously around as the students closed in. "_'You complete m_e' would have done."

"Thank you, Dave. I appreciate the sentiment. If not the-method?" Kurt dusted down his uniform with a flick of his fingers. "But I truly am happier here. Happier working as a unit and being a part of the team." As he spoke the students began to part, Blaine moving through them smoothly. Kurt smiled. "Happier with Blaine."

"Oh, hell no," Mercedes said, as Blaine began walking slowly towards them. A disarming grin on his face. "Here's The Demon Headmaster. Rachel! Sing! Something to slow them down. Radiohead or something."

"It'll affect you!" She protested. "I can't!"

"Just do it!'

"But-"

"Do it, Rachel!"

"Right! Right! Will the Spice Girls do?"

"Slow them down, don't _empower them_!" Mercedes shouted. "Come on! Quickly!"

She opened her mouth wide, and Kurt braced himself. He saw Blaine give a curt jut of his chin and then Rachel's face was obscured by Dalton colours. Someone had pulled a jacket over her head. She slumped to the floor, groaning. After a moment a happy sigh floated up from beneath the material.

"Shit! Puckerman do something," Karofsky said as he backed away. "Anything!"

"He ran through the wall about five minutes ago," Mercedes explained hurriedly. "And I think Sam dropped to the floor and turned into the carpet."

"Tina?" They both spun looking for the girl. "Tina?"

"Here! I'm here..." She didn't get much farther. Wes was too quick. A jacket flying through air and wrapping around an invisible shape. "No!" She screamed. The two fell to the floor. "_Ohhh_, that's _much_ better."

"Come on, guys. There's no need to be scared," Kurt soothed. "Is there, Blaine?"

Blaine didn't respond. His eyes intent on the three as he approached them.

"Mercedes? What can you do?" Karofsky said, his hand disappearing inside his jacket. "Please tell me you've got a power that's fucking useful. Because all I can do is read their minds and it isn't anything that they were keeping particularly close to their chests"

"I can impress the hell out of Rikki Lake?"

"Damnit!" Karofsky snapped. "Quinn? Because I'm running out of options here."

"I can't- I can't do it!" She cried with a sob. "Please don't ask me!"

"Oh, my God." Karofsky stared at Kurt, fear in his face. "I am so, so sorry. Just remember that, okay." He pulled his hand out of his jacket revealing the small handgun.

"That's against school policy!" Wes yelled. "It's in the guide book!"

"What the hell are you doing, Karofsky? Have you lost your damn mind," Mercedes squeaked. "Put that down before- "

"So, so sorry," Karofsky repeated, ignoring her. The first shot went wild, splintering the wall behind them. The second entered Blaine's chest neatly, throwing the boy backward and onto the floor.

_Blaine! They had shot Blaine!_ This was terrible! And would ruin the carpet.

A hand grabbed at him and Kurt felt his face clash roughly into Karofsky's chest.

"Come on, Hummel. We've got to go."

"I'm not going anywhere. I already told you," he said trying to push away but Karofsky held firm to his wrist. "I'm happy here."

"What? Why are you still like this?" Karofsky asked. He glanced round at the students still surrounding them. "Why are you _all _still like this?"

"Oh, God! Oh, no!" Quinn sobbed running to the boy at the floor and dropping to his side. "Oh, God!"

"In the movies you kill the leader! That's a given!" Karofsky protested. "Everyone knows that!" The hand holding the gun hung limp at his side. Removing himself from his grip Kurt's fingers encircled the gun and Karofsky's tightened on the handle.

"Are you going to shoot me, too?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. Karofsky squared his jaw, blinking back tears. With a violent shake of his head he let the gun drop into Kurt's waiting palm.

"I don't understand. I shot him. I shot Blaine," he said in a hiss. "I _killed_ him!"

"No, you didn't!" Quinn snapped. She turned to them, her profile no longer covering the body from sight.

No longer covering _Finn's_ body.

"I- I killed _Hudson_?" Karofsky started backwards tumbling slightly, his hand went to his mouth. "Wait. I didn't- No. I didn't mean to!"

"You lost control." Blaine stepped out into the circle, the crowd giving a small _ahh_ at his presence. "And Finn has paid for it."

"You bastard! You tiny, impeccably groomed bastard!" Karofsky spat. "It was supposed to have been _you_!"

"Not only that," Blaine continued as if he hadn't spoke, "but you have damaged school property."

From the corner of his eye Kurt could see Carole shooing a crying Quinn away and rolling Finn over. Spitting on a handkerchief she began to wipe at the blood staining the carpet.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" Blaine asked. "He _was_ your step-brother."

"I'm rather annoyed, to be honest." Kurt tutted. "Not to mention the complete disregard to the rules."

"Agreed." He looked back towards Karofsky. "I'm just not sure whether you would fit in here at Dalton, Dave. Mercedes? Quinn? You are very welcome to stay of course." Blaine came and stood next to Kurt. "But, Dave? I'm afraid I'm going to have to reject your application."

"What? What the hell does that even mean?" Karofsky demanded. His hands balled into fists at his sides and his body settling into an almost uncontrollable shake.

"Have you ever fired one of these before, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

"Yes, my father showed me. When I was younger. We have one in the house for protection."

"Wonderful. Do you think you could fire a bullet into Dave without causing any further damage? We just had this room redecorated in the Spring, you see."

"Kurt, baby! No!" Mercedes begged. "You're in there somewhere! Don't do this!"

"Kurt!" Quinn cried from the ground. "Listen to her! Please!"

"Of course, Blaine." Kurt replied. "If you think it's for the best?"

"I do," Blaine confirmed. "For the good of the school."

Kurt smiled good-naturedly and raised the gun to Karofsky's face.

"Hummel! For God's sake!" Karofsky cried, his hands up. "Please," he said in a soft broken voice. "Please. I _love_ you, Kurt-"

"That's nice." Kurt said pleasantly. It's always lovely to receive a compliment and polite to acknowledge it. "Thank you."

And then Kurt shot Dave Karofsky dead.

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

**Surfaces May be Hot to Handle.**  
**Chapter 7**

"Very good, Kurt." Blaine said giving him a pat on the back. "Shall we leave practice for today? Maybe go for some shakes!" He turned to the others. "Let it never be said I can't cut loose!"

"Kurt, what did you do?" Quinn gasped, staring up at him from the floor. "_What did you do?_"

"This is a hot damn mess," Mercedes muttered, her eyes wide. "Just keep back!" She snapped at an approaching Warbler. "You just keep the hell back, okay!"

"Mercedes, it's fine. Everything will be just fine." Kurt said. "You can come for shakes with us!"

"I can fix this. I think... I _think_ I can fix this?" Quinn grabbed herself tight and began to rock. "What if I can't? Oh, God!"

"Girl," Mercedes said, grabbing her at the arm and yanking her up. "Whatever it is you think you can do, just do it!"

Kurt smiled sweetly as he approached them, Wes handing him a pair of jackets. Stepping over Karofsky's body, he nodded his thanks.

His friends were upset. Confused. They just needed _guidance._

"Quinn!" Mercedes said, shaking the blonde. "Now!"

"Okay, okay!" Quinn stilled her shaking and looked deep into Kurt's eyes. "Please God let me... I can fix this. _I can fix this!"_

* * *

"Kurt, phone! Someone from school."

Jumping up and being careful not to touch Finn in anyway, he ran up the steps two at a time. "Yes?" he gasped, grabbing the phone from his father. "Kurt speaking!"

"Hey...," A voice said.

"Er, hey? Who is this, please?"

"It"s Dave. Erm, Karofsky." Great, just what he needed. A mental breakdown and his school bully checking in by phone in the same hour. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong? I never said anything was wrong? You called _me_, remember?"

"Oh, right. Right." Kurt heard a deep breath being taken down the line and winced as Karofsky exhaled loudly in his ear. "I got your number from the book. Listen. Has anything, you know, weird happened since the storm?"

_The storm? Could that have caused it? What, no! This wasn't Marvel or whatever._

"Caused what?" Karofsky asked, his voice alert. "Hummel, has something happened?"

"Nothing's happened! Nothing's wrong except one ruined Christian T…what on Earth?" He broke off as a loud clattering came at the kitchen door, the wood shaking at the force.

"Kurt! Kurt!" A girl's voice screamed. "Are you in there? Please!"

"Look, someone's at the door. I have to go. And Karofsky? Lose this number." Replacing the phone to the cradle quickly, he ran towards the door, his heart feeling as if it was in his mouth. "I'm coming! Hold up."

"Kurt!" Quinn shrieked as he opened the door. "_"Thank God!_" She went to hug him and stopped, her hands hanging in the air fingers twitching. Shaking her head she edged past him and into the kitchen. "Am I too late? I'm always too late! I tried to stop that night with Puck and I couldn't! I tried to stop what happened with Mr Schue's wife, my father leaving, the lying to Finn." She shook her head wildly and ran her hands roughly through her hair. "_I couldn't take any of it back, Kurt!_ I couldn't do it! I was just a freak with a power I couldn't use! I tried and I tried, but I was always just too late!"

"Quinn?" Kurt's heart was beating hard in his chest as he stared at the hysterical girl. This had to be the most she had ever said to him and he was only getting every fourth word. "What are you talking about? Should I get Finn? Were you hurt in that storm earlier? Is that it?"

"The storm? It was tonight?" She gave a harsh braying laugh and clapped her hands. "I'm not too late? _I'm not too late!"_

The phone began to ring in the background but Kurt only registered it numbly. "Quinn, calm down! What is it? Too late for what?"

With tearful eyes she gripped at his arms and gave his wrists a squeeze, fingers avoiding the skin at the end of his cuffs. "I think you need to sit down and listen to what I have to say. And then we need to go to Dalton. We need to see Blaine."

* * *

"Are they coming?" Kurt said the next day, rubbing his gloved palms down his thighs. They were deeply uncomfortable for the June weather. He was going to have get lace ones or something.

Quinn nodded and sat down next to him. "They may not believe us? The others?" Quinn warned. "At least not at first. The powers don't seem to be instant for everyone. I think they work on triggers. I didn't know I could time travel until I got home from the mall, saw I had bought the wrong bra size and got annoyed. Apart from last night I think that's the only time it worked the way I wanted it to."

"Okay, so I know the rest. But what about Artie? Mike? What can they do?" Kurt asked. "How many others are like us?"

"I don't know. Honest! I suppose we could keep poking them until they do something interesting." Quinn smiled, looking around the music room. "It's weird, you know? Being the only one that remembers."

"I can't get over it." Kurt said. "I can't get over that I did something so disgusting. So wrong. _So against nature._"

"You didn't _mean_ to kill Karofsky, Kurt. It wasn't you. It's the power. It corrupts."

"Actually I meant sleeping with Rachel." Kurt shifted uncomfortably. "You won't tell them, will you?"

"No," Quinn laughed. "They don't need to know _every_ detail. Just what your power is and what happened. And just that we need to be together through all this. No more trying to deal with all this on our own." She patted his knee. "Any of us."

"Like a support network?"

"I guess. Yeah. The powers change people. It changed _you_. It changed Blaine. It probably changed others. We need each other to stop that happening. And to make sure nothing like that happens again."

"I don't understand how I could have done that to Blaine. Used my… this, whatever it is, _against_ him? It makes me feel sick to even..." He shook his head, biting his lip. "I can't believe I'd do something like that?"

"I suppose when you let the power in, when your insecurities are down. It wedges its foot in the door. They get addictive._Some_ powers, that is." She played with the hem of her skirt. "When I kept trying to go back, I just couldn't get it right. I couldn't change it! It was never far enough. Maybe the reason for that was deep down I didn't _want_ to change anything? Because I don't regret _her._" Kurt bumped her softly with his own shoulder and she smiled gratefully. "So I decided to ignore it. To stop trying. Pretend to be normal. But that didn't work either because I knew it was still there. Useless." For a moment she stared into space, lost in memories that longer existed. Remembering him she gave a watery smile and wiped at her eyes. "Except this time! This time it worked!"

He put his hand over hers. He couldn't begin to imagine how hard it had been for her. Not being able to change the past and _literally_ being doomed to repeat it. She was stronger than he thought possible. He just hoped he could face this with the same bravery.

"How's Blaine taking it?" she asked, breaking his thoughts.

"Still freaked out. He texted earlier to say he has detention." Kurt grimaced. "He won't wear his jacket."

Quinn gave a soft laugh. "That wasn't him either. Not really. After what happened with... well, _you know_... I think that he used the power to get his control back. Once he used it once, it just got... " She laughed again. "_Out_ of control?"

_"It wedged its foot in,_" Kurt repeated in a whisper. "So, it was _my_ fault? What I did made him that way?"

"Yes. No? Kind of?" Quinn shrugged. "I don't have _all_ the answers, Kurt. But you've been honest to each other this time. You can work through it."

"Wow. When I think about it. We could be quite the power couple! Oh! Not that I'm going to misuse it. I'm just saying, is all! Would _you_ refuse us a table at a restaurant?"

"Hmm? You know. In the same way the powers made people do things, horrible things, it made some people do good?" Her voice had taken on a sly quality. "Karofsky for example?"

"Oh, my God. Why was he even there for me to shoot in the first place? We aren't even friends!"

"You were there for each other. It made you bond, I assume. You got yourselves through it and when Blaine went replicant..."

"Karofsky was there?" Kurt said cynically. "Well, that isn't going to happen this time. Blaine and I are going to be there for_each other_. That's what friends do. And Karofsky? Is no friend of mine."

"The feeling is mutual, Hummel." Karofsky growled from the doorway. "Okay, Blondie. I'm here. What do you want?" He gave a wink. "You looking to make another baby?"

Ignoring the quip, Quinn shot Kurt a nervous smile and stood up. "It's about your power. It's about _all_ our powers."

Kurt watched the two talk, not particularly listening. It was the same as she had already told him, Blaine and Finn. The same as she would soon tell the rest of Glee club. It was not that he didn't _believe_ Quinn. He did with all his heart. When she told her story she ached with a sincerity that would either have you certain it was the truth or convinced she was insane. He may have fallen into the latter if it hadn't been for his own strange power and walking in on Finn in the basement wearing Barack Obama's body. It was just that... Him and Karofsky? Joining forces? Against _Blaine_ of all people. It didn't compute.

"... and that's it," she finished. "Here we are."

Karofsky faltered on his feet, glaring at them, his face growing red. "That's bullshit!"

"You can see into my _head_, Karofsky. You know it's not." She glanced sideways at Kurt and bit a lip, a gleam of indecisiveness in her eyes. "There's something else. Something you should know." Quinn grabbed both of Karofsky's hands and stared up into his face. As the minutes passed Karofsky's expression flowed back and forth between anger, shock and sadness.

_What was she telling him?_

Sighing, she dropped his hands with a sigh. "It's up to you what you do with it," she said. "I'll go see if can find any of the others. Give you some time to talk."

_Time to talk? What could they possibly have to say to each other?_

Karofsky gave him a hard stare and Kurt sighed. Fine. He'd go first. "Okay. What was _that?_ What was she telling you?"

Karofsky turned, his eyes dazed. "Er, nothing. I..." His stare dropped to Kurt's mouth and Kurt fought back a shudder of disgust. "Just some things from the future." His voice took on a hysterical edge. "The future. _The fucking future!"_

"Didn't win the lottery, then?"

"Excuse me, Fancy? I just saw you shoot me in the goddamn face! You could at least act a bit, like, upset!"

"I have no doubt you said something completely obnoxious and deserved it." Kurt pulled on the band of his gloves, hoping a little bit of air would get in. Why wouldn't the others hurry up? How long did he have to sit with this mongoose? "Well, what did you do?"

"I was saving you! I have no idea why, and I as for what I said..." He blushed. "It doesn't matter. Okay? Just leave it."

"Fine." Kurt held up his hands. "Whatever, Algernon. I'm sorry I shot you in the future. I'll try not to do it again. Emphasis on the _try_."

"Oh, why don't you just go fromage with your preppy boyfriend, Horn Flesh?"

Kurt blinked. "I'm sorry, go do what?"

"Fromage?" He made pressed his palms together and slipped them back and forth, his lip in a crude sneer. "You know? Where you're both dressed dudes and you rub each other's crotches until you get off?"

Kurt gave a disgusted tut. "I should have known you'd be an old romantic at heart." Still, to be fair, the idea had some appeal.

Reddening Karofsky began to shuffle his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking at the chair next to Kurt. "Maybe I should sit in on this... super freak meeting or whatever?"

Kurt pointed at the far corner. "I think there's a spare seat up there?"

Karofsky scowled. "Then again why would I want anyone to think I was in your little loser group? I'd have to hear them_thinking_ it after all." When Kurt didn't bother to reply, Karofsky sighed heavily, looking to the doorway in quick furtive glances. "No, that's not what I… Listen, Hummel. You _really_ want to know what I said? Before er... Future _you_ shot Future _me_, Christ that sounds ridiculous..."

"Yes? Okay." Kurt tensed at that small flicker of Karofsky's eyes. Again to his lips. Kurt's own eyes shifted to the door. Why wouldn't they _hurry_? Once Karofsky got tired of his brand new game he'd remember that his old one was torturing him. Now with the added joy of hearing his terror in his mind. The familiar fear began to creep across Kurt's stomach. He couldn't let Karofsky know he was panicked. "I mean. If you want to tell me?"

_Don't let him hear what you're thinking. Don't let him hear what you're thinking._

"Of course," Karofsky said in a flat voice. "Because you're Kurt fucking Hummel." Weird. Déjà vu. "And I'm Dave fucking Karofsky. And that's just the way it is."

"I'm sorry?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. "I'm what?"

"Nothing, Lady. Alright, you want to know? I'll tell you. I saw Quinn's mind. I saw the way it went down. I went to that creepy ass school because it was right thing to do. Not out of any liking for _you_. Or any of your friends. So you can get that out of your head. You don't mean _anything_ to me and you sure as hell didn't in the future." Karofsky took a deep breath. "The last thing I said was to tell you _exactly_ what I thought of you and it's not much. And I got _dead_ for it. I'm not signing up for round two. So why don't you just mince back to your little friends, your boy Polly Pocket, and stay the hell out of my face and I'll stay out of yours. Got it?"

Despite the cramping in his belly, Kurt felt hope bloom in his chest. Was Karofsky really promising to leave him alone? For good?

"Ye...yeah. Sure! Fine." Kurt stammered, not wanting to push his luck. "I'm good with that."

"I'd shake on it but you'd probably use your weird skin thing to jump on The Fury." Karofsky paused. "That was a fisting joke by the way."

"Thanks," Kurt answered dryly. "I got it. High brow though it was."

"Right, okay then." Karofsky gave a nod. "That's it." He turned round and made his way to the exit. Kurt kept his focus on the ground as he went, trying to hide his smile.

_This was real! Karofsky was going to leave him alone!_

From beneath his lashes he saw Karofsky still in the doorway. Still watching him intently. Kurt cleared his mind, holding his breath.

He exhaled loudly when the figure moved away. _Finally!_

A buzzing in his jeans alerted him to a text and he slipped the cell out.

Blaine.

_"Kurt. Am freaking out. Professor George wants me to be a hall monitor. What if I go mad with power and won't let people pee?"_

There were a lot of sleepless, horrible worrying nights ahead of them. That was a given. After all, he had this potentially devastating new power and so did nearly all his friends. He'd been given a view into how horribly it could go wrong. But right now he was finding it hard to feel too bad. Karofsky was backing off. He'd been given a second chance. He had his family and friends. He had Blaine.

He slipped off a glove as he clicked to a reply, casting his eyes sideways as the Glee club entered the room, full of chatter and laughter. Quinn shot him a probing look and he gave her a reassuring smile.

Looking back to the phone he chewed his lip as he thought of a reply. It wasn't going to be easy. Not for any of them. But he was going to try. He had already wasted one future. He wasn't going to do it a second time.

He grinned as he settled on a response, fingers flying over the keys he texted back one simple word.

_"Courage."_**The End**_AN- Thank you for reading! There is a one shot sequel named Contact High. But please note that it is not Kurtofsky._


End file.
